Kiara Pride-Lander: Book 7 Part 2 - War
by Kimberly Joan Amethyst
Summary: This is the second part of the final book in the KPL series. DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING, apart from my own characters. Please read and enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: So, here is the first chapter of Part 2: War. Once again, there are two poems here. The first is about war, and the reason why it's here is obvious, so I'm not going to explain it. The second poem is about secrets and lies, which I think is important because of what happened in Part 1, and also what happens in this book. So, enjoy this chapter, and I will be updating same time next week.**

 **Kiara Pride-Lander**

 **and the Deathly Hand of Holiness**

 **By K.J. Amethyst**

 **Book 2: War**

 **A War Song to Englishmen** _by William Blake_

Prepare, prepare for the iron helm of War,

Bring forth the lots, cast in the spacious orb;

The Angel of Fate turns them with mighty hands,

And casts them out upon the darkened earth!

Prepare, prepare!

Prepare your hearts for Death's cold hand!

Prepare your souls for flight, you bodies for the earth;

Prepare your arms for glorious victory;

Prepare your eyes to meet a holy God!

Prepare, prepare!

Whose fatal scroll is that? Methinks 'tis mine!

Why sinks my heart, why faltereth my tongue?

Had I three lives, I'd die in such a cause,

And rise, with ghosts, over the well-thought field.

Prepare, prepare!

The arrows of Almighty God are drawn!

Angels of Death stand in the lowering heavens!

Thousands of souls must seek the realms of light,

And walk together on the clouds of heaven!

Prepare, prepare!

Soldiers, prepare! Our cause is Heaven's cause;

Soldiers, prepare! Be worthy of our cause:

Prepare to meet our fathers in the sky:

Prepare, O-troops, that are to fall today!

Prepare, prepare!

Alfred shall smile, and make his harp rejoice;

The Normal William, and the learned Clerk,

And Lion Heart, and black-browed Edward,

With his loyal Queen, shall rise, and welcome us!

Prepare, prepare!

0000

 **Secrets and Lies** _by Dave Alan Walker_

Turn a blind eye to this

Lies breed lies

Satan breeds the devil

But justice will one day breed the truth.

How can you keep a secret

How can you keep a lie

How can you live with yourselves

knowing what they did.

Are you all in a cult

or are you turning a blind eye

You know the secrets

That could save peoples lives

But instead you choose

to live a lie.

I've seen good things

I've seen bad things

But I've never seen

a lie like this.

0000

 **Chapter 1**

 **A Broken Family**

 **MATTHEW DAWSON**

It had only been a week since Matthew Dawson, most of his children, his nieces Tanya and Geri, his faithful butler and his family, and Simba, Nala and their baby, Kion Pride-Lander, had all been forced to move out of Dawson Manor, and so much had changed in the past week. He was grateful to Sam to come and warn him and get himself and the others safely to Elizabeth's place, but he did not need to wake his children, oh no, for they, Joey, his wife and child, along with Simba, Nala and Kion had all been awake for most of the night, seeing as they had all been called into the drawing room by the Oracle.

None of them knew why or for what purpose they had been summoned, but they all went there without any arguments, knowing that this was important, but none of them were prepared for what they were about to see …

As soon as the drawing room door had closed, a bright white light filled the air, making everyone cover their eyes. When the light had faded slightly, and everyone had recovered their sight, they saw that it was a screen of sorts, blurry around the edges but clear in the middle.

"What's going on, Dad?" Matthew heard Max say, but he shook his head, having no answer himself. Then, quite suddenly, a picture came into view of a girl who looked like a corpse lying on the ground: her face was gaunt, her skin was tight and waxen, and her hair was lank and lifeless. Matthew stared at the girl, feeling sorry for her, wondering what was going on, even as his heart twisted in pain. It was only when Merida exclaimed, "Oh my God, that's Sian!" that Matthew understood who the girl was and just what was going on.

He heard gasps of shock from his children and friends, watched as his offspring and Tanya and Geri huddled even closer together on the floor, but Matthew could not speak. The poor man was in shock, and understandably so. How could this have happened to her, his Siany, who was always so brave, so strong, so full of life? Matthew knew that she had suffered after losing her mother, but never in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that this would happen. He kept thinking to himself, _that can't be my Siany_ … _it can't be_ … But when he saw Chris, Kiara and Chrissie's faces, he knew then that it had to be true, and as the pain became tighter in his chest, he wanted to run from the room and see no more, feel no more … but he knew that he had to stay: he had to understand why this had happened to her, and besides that, his children needed him, too. What kind of father would he be if he abandoned his children when they needed him most? What kind of example would he be setting for them?

Then Matthew heard his wife's voice, far off and distant, singing the lullaby that meant so much to her and Sian, and as the singing grew louder, he watched as Chris, Kiara and Chrissie moved out of the way so that Susan could land in front of them, her Animal Spirit phoenix body turning into her human one, apart from her head, as she cried healing tears on to Sian's face.

Everyone watched closely as the song ended, and the phoenix's head transformed into Susan's. No one spoke, no one dared to breathe. Surely, Matthew thought, surely this has got to work. But it did not; Sian's body still remained dead-looking.

Matthew looked at his children who, instead of being upset, were just as confused as he was as they spoke over each other.

"What's going on? Why didn't that work?"

"Why isn't Sian all right?"

"D'you think this has got something to do with the Oracle?"

"I thought phoenix tears had healing powers, so why haven't they saved Sian?"

Matthew could not answer his children, mainly because he was thinking the exact same things as they were. He had no answer, and apparently, neither did Susan. It was only when Kiara spoke that they all began to understand what had caused Sian to become … well, dead.

 _"Ma'am, the reason this hasn't worked is because you hurt Sian so deeply that healing her is not enough, and right now she deserves more than that. After all, you're the reason she's like this, ma'am, and Sian deserves a decent apology from you, now more than ever! You need to make this right, ma'am, and what better time than now to do so."_

At that, his children erupted in words of shock, hurt and outrage. Matthew could not blame them; he was having trouble restraining himself from saying all that he wanted, but some of what he had to say was not appropriate for his children's ears, no matter how old they were. How dare Susan hurt Sian that way! What right had she, a mother, hurt their daughter like that? Matthew looked at Joey and his family: both mother and daughter were crying, the daughter loudest of all, and Joey himself looked to be struggling at keeping his own emotions in check.

Matthew then looked at Simba and Nala. Kion, who was awake in his mother's arms, was blissfully unaware of what was going on, but his keen eyes were alight with curiosity and confusion as to what was going on around him. Simba and Nala, however, were looking at each other with equal looks of shock. At that moment, Simba caught Matthew's eye and the two men shared a look of understanding before turning back to the screen.

Matthew and the others then watched as Susan apologised for hurting Sian, wishing for her to come back as there were so many people relying on her, before she broke down, crying over her daughter's lifeless body. By this point, everyone in the drawing room had a tear in their eye, all except Kion, who was yanking on his mother's hair, demanding her attention, but she was not giving it to him, as she was fixed on the screen as everyone else was.

Then, when Susan told Sian that she loved her, they all watched as a red and gold tear ran down her cheek, landing on Sian's face. Everyone watched in amazement as that tear glowed red and gold again, but brighter than before, making the other tears glow red and gold too, before seeping into Sian's skin, running through her entire body, healing her, so it seemed, from within.

Then everyone gasped and watched on in awe as Sian's body glowed bright and golden for several seconds. When the light faded, they could all see that Sian's body was normal and healthy-looking: her skin was a natural cream and her hair, no longer lifeless and tied back, was full of volume and looked like it always did: straight but curled inwards at the tips.

Matthew could not believe what he was seeing. His Siany, who had looked like a skeleton only moments before, now looked like a vision of health. There was just one small problem …

"Why isn't she waking up?" Beth asked.

As though in answer to her question, a few seconds later three figures appeared on the screen, coming down from the heavens, landing not five feet from the others: the bald man in the middle was, Matthew knew, the Oracle; the man on the Oracle's right was Tibur, and the woman on his left was Luba, half woman, half cat, as his daughters had informed him.

They were there to save Sian, that much was clear, even to Matthew, and he was not at all surprised to hear that Susan was going to be punished for the pain she had caused Sian. Matthew watched as Susan began to protest, thinking there's nothing that she can say that will defend her actions, and was glad when the Oracle put her in her place, stating loudly, _"Silence, Susan! Your daughter's words … shall decide the course of your fate!"_

Beth, Kestrel and Merida all gasped loudly at that. Matthew looked at the three of them, as did everyone else, confused by their reaction. Surely the Oracle's punishment was not that bad?

"Why are you three shocked by that?" Max asked them. "What the Oracle said can't be that bad."

"But it _is_ that bad, Max," said Merida.

"Why?"

"Because the Oracle more or less told Ma that she could lose her place on his Council, depending on what Sian does," Kestrel explained in her quiet, soft manner.

 _"What?"_

Beth, Kestrel and Merida just nodded, and a stunned silence filled the room. Matthew knew that his wife had done Sian a great injustice, and he did not deny that she deserved to be punished, but he knew how much being on the Oracle's Council meant to Susan, and just how devastated she would be if she were forced to leave it. He only hoped that Sian would not be too hard on Susan.

On the screen, the company could all see the Oracle turning to Luba, who passed him ingredients out of a sack. He described each one before throwing a few sprigs or petals of each herb or flower on to her body, before pouring a jug of bright blue sparkling water over every inch of Sian's body, which Matt knew to be the Healing Waters of Kandrakar.

Then Sian's mouth opened, and out of it floated a tiny orb, Sian's soul, which looked dull, cracked and black, almost dead, not clear at all; only a few small dots of white were visible. Matthew was shocked and saddened at how his daughter's soul looked, and looking around the room, his feelings were clearly echoed.

Gasps from his children drew his attention back to the screen, and Matthew could see why, for the Healing Water, along with the herbs and flowers that were shredded, soared upwards to meet the soul, as the Council of Kandrakar sang to help the healing process, along with Susan, Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel and Merida, and, slowly but surely, Sian's soul became healed and whole again, as her soul was transported back into her body, with the Oracle's help, of course.

The moment Sian's soul had fully disappeared back inside her body, the singing stopped. Both on the screen and in the drawing room, no one moved, no one spoke; even Kion had stopped trying to get Nala's attention. All eyes were on Sian, watching and waiting. Matthew hoped and prayed that it had worked, that the Oracle had indeed managed to save her …

And then, quite suddenly, Sian shot up, gasping for air, making everyone jump. They all watched in wonderment, amazement and relief, as Sian explored herself, healthy for the first time in God knows how long.

But the most beautiful moment that brought tears of joy to all eyes was when Sian discovered the movement of her legs: _"I can walk again!"_ she exclaimed joyfully, giggling like a child. She looked up at Chris, Sian and Chrissie then, and said happily, _Well … I'm back!"_ And that was all it took for Chris, Kiara and Chrissie to run to Sian, kneel down next to her and hold her tight.

"I'm glad Sian's all right now, Dad," said Merida, who was closest to him.

Matthew smiled at his youngest daughter and said, "We all are, love. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has wanted the old Sian back, now, am I?"

Many shakes of the head answered his question, and he laughed softly as they all looked back at the screen.

After a while, Chris, Sian, Kiara and Chrissie stood up, and as they turned to face the other people around them, as soon as Matthew saw Sam and Ferdinand, he immediately knew where they were: Sandwaves Cottage, Sam and Ferdinand's new home. He inwardly breathed a sigh of relief, knowing Chris, Sian, Kiara and Chrissie were all safe.

The company in the drawing room all watched as Sian saw her mother, and immediately, her expression turned hard and cold. Everyone watched nervously as Sian told her mother how disappointed she was in her and how let down she felt, not to mention how hurt and angry she was with her.

Matthew looked around and could see his children and friends looking at each other nervously. He put his head in his hands, thinking, _Susan's going to lose her place on the Council_ …

But, that was not the case, for Sian said, _"However,"_ making Matthew raise his head, and he was surprised and relieved by what she said next, for she told Susan that she understood why her mother did what she did, and that she felt every word her mother said, which only made it easy for her to forgive her mother, and tell her that she loved her.

As Susan and Sian embraced, everyone watching breathed sighs of relief as the screen vanished, and immediately his children started talking over one another excitedly, which Matthew took great interest listening in.

"I'm glad Sian's back to her old self again."

"Me too. It's been too long since we last saw her smile."

"Or saw her at all, for that matter."

"You're not wrong there, brother."

"It's good that Sian forgave Ma, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It's just a shame about her punishment."

"Well, the Oracle did say he was going to punish Ma."

"But to take away her Animal Spirit privileges from her?"

"Hey, it could have been worse. She could have lost her place on the Oracle's Council."

"True …"

As his children talked, Joey and his family cuddled and Simba and Nala gave Kion their attention, Matthew sent up a silent prayer of thanks to the Oracle for saving Sian. All he wanted to do now was to see her again, but he would have to wait for that day to come, hoping that it would not be too long.

No one slept that night. Matthew knew that he should have sent his children to bed the moment the screen vanished, but seeing how happy his children were, he knew that sleep would be impossible for them. Besides, their happiness made him happy, the happiest he had been in a long time, in fact.

But it was fortunate that Matthew had allowed his children to stay up, for later that morning, some time before dawn, there came a knock on the front door. Telling the others to stay where they were, he went to see who it was. After doing the usual checks, Matthew opened the door to admit Sam.

"Sam, what are you doing here at this time of night?" he asked his niece, after he closed the door.

"I've come to warn you, Uncle Matt," Sam said quickly, "but first I should tell you about Sian, Chris, Kiara and Chrissie - "

"No need, Sam. We already know," Matthew reassured her.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise.

"You do? How?"

"The Oracle called us all to the drawing room to watch what was happening. We know they're safe with you and Ferdinand."

"Oh, OK. Good. That saves me some time explaining." There was a short pause, then Sam said, "I'm here to help get you and the others in this house out of here safely. Tonight."

That got Matthew's attention. "Why, Sam? What's happened?"

"Before Sian, Chris, Kiara and Chrissie arrived, a boy called Lincoln Lovedream, a girl called Dena Wright and Madam Wandwick had Apparated to us, by the means of a house-elf named Dokey," Sam explained. "The elf told us that she had rescued them from the Maltys' cellar, and that she was going back there to rescue Chris, Sian, Kiara, Chrissie and a faun by the name of Grimzhan. We learned from her that Sian had been tortured - "

 _"What?"_ Matthew exclaimed; above everything else that had happened to Sian tonight, she had been tortured? And at Malty Manor, no less! "Tortured? By who?"

Sam looked at Matthew nervously as she answered, "Katalina Outsider, Uncle."

At the name of that mad woman, Matthew's blood began to boil as he began to pace furiously. The thought of that woman hurting Sian again …

"That foul woman! Hasn't she caused Sian enough grief?"

"I know, Uncle," said Sam, "but that's not why I'm here."

Matthew stopped pacing, looked at his niece and said calmly, "You're right, Sam. Sorry, you just caught me off guard when you said that Sian had been tortured, that's all."

"That's all right, Uncle. But remember what I said about Chrissie being captured, too? The Love Destroyers will know that Chrissie isn't really sick from Spattergroit any more, won't they?"

"The A.I. …" Matthew muttered, cottoning on at last. He sighed deeply, thinking. He wasn't surprised; he had known that this would happen sooner or later. But a problem quickly struck him …

"Where are we to go?" Matthew asked, turning to face Sam again. "I honestly have no idea where we can go, or who will accept so many of us - "

"Don't worry, Uncle, I've sorted it all out for you," Sam reassured him. "You see, before coming here, I went to Great-Aunt Lizzie's place. It took a while to wake her, and she wasn't best pleased at being woken at such an hour, but once she had some tea and I explained the situation to her, she agreed to let all of you stay with her. She's already getting rooms ready and will wait to see you."

Matt did not know what to say. This kind of thinking and generosity he would have expected Sian to come up with. Eventually, though, he stepped forward to embrace Sam, saying, "Thank you, Sam, for all of this."

"Well, family helps out family in times like these, you know that," said Sam.

"That they do, Sam." Matthew then kissed Sam's temple, released her and shouted, "Joey?"

The long, lanky man quickly came running to him at once.

"Yes, Mr D?"

"The Love Destroyers know that Chrissie's with Kiara now, seeing as they, Sian and Chris were captured and taken to the Maltys'. We need to get everyone out of here quickly."

"Where to, sir?"

"Great-Aunt Lizzie's. She's agreed to keep us. Sam's doing," Matthew explained. "But what worries me is getting Simba and Nala there. You know full well that they can't Apparate, not with a baby, anyway."

Joey nodded his head thoughtfully, then he said, "Well, why don't I take them and my family in the car to Elizabeth's, being it back 'ere, then Apparate back there? With the car in flight, I can 'ave them over there within five minutes, if that! What choo say, Mr D?"

Matthew did not need to think twice. "Do it. Oh, and Joey?" he added, as the man began to head back to the drawing room.

Joey stopped and turned round.

"Yes, Mr D, sir?"

"Tell my children of the plan and ask them to prepare for me, will you? I've got a bit of last-minute packing to do myself, as well as a few things that need to be taken care of before we leave."

"Of course I will, sir."

Matthew nodded at Joey, who nodded back, then turned on his heel and walked back to the drawing room. Matthew then turned to Sam.

"Wait here for us, will you?"

"Of course, Uncle," was all Sam said. Matthew kissed Sam's temple once more before heading upstairs to the master bedroom, which was directly above his study and Susan's old one.

Unbeknownst to Sam or anyone else outside of Dawson Manor, the moment he got his children home for the Easter holidays, Matthew had told them, Simba, Nala and Joey and his family to start packing up their belongings in suitcases and boxes, just in case. Because of the serious tone he used, no one questioned him about this decision, though he did get a few questioning looks from his children.

The truth was, Matthew had been worried that he was going to get rumbled because of the AI, a worry that had begun when the idea was first put in place, but one that had grown stronger with each passing month, particularly in these past couple of weeks. In that moment, Matthew praised himself on his actions as he finished his packing, and as the distant rumbling of a car engine started up, Matthew simply waved his wand, sending his luggage straight to Elizabeth's.

Making his way back downstairs, Matthew heard his children talking and laughing, a sound that had been sorely missed for many months that brought a smile to his face. Arriving downstairs, he saw that Tanya, Geri, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max and Dave were all ready, the eight of them in travelling cloaks, their luggage all around them. Turning to Sam, Matthew laughed at the look of surprise on her face.

"Well, you all certainly have been busy, haven't you?" said Sam.

"It was Dad's idea, really," said Max.

"Yeah, he told us to pack a few things every day since we came home for Easter, so that we could be prepared in case we had to go," said Merida. "Clothes were left last, obviously."

Sam nodded, clearly impressed by her uncle's way of thinking. Then she said, "Well, I never thought I'd see the day when Uncle Matt would be the master planner around here."

Tanya, Geri, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max and Dave all laughed, both at their cousin's cheek, and at their father's expression of mock offence.

"Yeah, we know. It's usually … Sian who gets that title," Merida finished sadly, which made the other five stop laughing and look sad, too. Sam turned to Matthew, surprised, but he did not say anything. It broke his heart to see his children like this; even knowing that she was going to be all right, Matthew was once again struck by how much they missed Sian, and he was almost glad for the distraction that was Beth and Ben, carrying the rest of their luggage downstairs.

"Good, you're ready," he said, as Beth and Ben put their stuff down. "Now, we'll wait here a few moments until Joey comes back with the car, and once he Disapparates, we'll set off, too."

"How will we get to Great-Aunt Lizzie's, Dad?" Merida asked.

"Side-along Apparition," Matthew explained. "Sam and I will take two of you at a time. But first, we need to wait for Joey …"

Fortunately, they did not have long to wait: within minutes, the car could be heard coming back along the driveway. Walking to the window, Matthew watched as the car disappeared from view. Then, about a minute later, Joey could be seen walking down the driveway. Once he was out of the gates, Matthew turned back to his children.

"All right, it's time. No, no, leave your luggage," he added hastily, as his children reached for their belongings. "I'll send those on ahead now, they'll slow us down otherwise."

And just like he had done in his room, Matthew waved his wand and trunks, suitcases and boxes vanished.

"Come on, then." Sam started to open the door, but Matthew stopped her, quickly thinking of another way out. Sam looked at him, surprised. "Why did you do that, Uncle? I thought you wanted us to be leaving this way?"

"I did, but I've just thought of another, better way," said Matthew, and leaving Sam's side, he walked quickly to the rug in the middle of the floor, unrolled it and opened the trapdoor that was hidden underneath. Looking around at his children, he stood back and quickly told them, "Down you go, kids, and wait for me at the bottom. Quickly, now!"

One by one, Tanya, Geri, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max, Ben and Dave climbed down the ladder to the very bottom. Once Dave was a few feet down, Matt turned to Sam and nudged his head twice towards the ladder. Getting the idea, Sam nodded and went down. Matthew followed behind, but before his head disappeared from view, he took one last, lingering look around Dawson Manor, quietly saying goodbye to the old place he had called home for so long, then sighed heavily and quickly waved his wand, minding his fingers and head as the trapdoor closed over his head and the rug moved over the trapdoor, obscuring the Dawsons' escape route from view.

Once Matthew reached the bottom, he led his children and Sam, Tanya and Geri along the earthy passageway that was lit with oil lamps at odd intervals, not stopping once to get any food or supplies from the storage bunker, and ignoring the bedrooms that were situated in other tunnels leading off from the main path, each hole covered by an old, dirty blanket for privacy uses. Now was not the time to explore the place, Matthew reasoned with himself, now was the time to move quickly and get to Elizabeth's safely so as to avoid the Love Destroyers, who would be at Dawson Manor in no time.

On and on the Dawsons walked, no one talking or complaining, until they reached a ladder that led upwards. Going first, Matthew climbed until he reached the trapdoor to the old mill, that had not been used for so long that it was stuck from rust. So he drew out his wand and, hoping that the Love Destroyers would not hear him, he raised his wand and said, _"Bombarda!"_ He ducked his head as the trapdoor was flung off its hinges high into the air, landing a short way away quite heavily on the hard stone floor, as dust rained down on his head. Coughing and shaking his head to remove the dust from it, Matthew climbed out on to the hard stone floor of an old mill, then turned to help his children and Sam out of there.

Once Sam, Tanya, Geri, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max, Ben and Dave were all out of the tunnel, they quickly moved outside the run down old mill, the old rusted wooden door creaking loudly, but did nothing to cover up the distant sounds of the Love Destroyers tearing through Dawson Manor, which only increased Matthew's unease.

"We have to move quickly, Uncle, before they find us here!" Sam said urgently.

Matthew nodded, and he quickly grabbed Merida and Dave by the other arm, as Sam grabbed Beth and Kestrel, and they Disapparated to Elizabeth's manor, just outside of the gates, Tanya and Geri moving independently with them. Once Sam and Matthew had watched them cross safely over the barrier, they both Disapparated back to the old mill and moved the other four together, Sam taking Joe and Jack, and Matthew moving Max and Ben. And so the Dawsons were moved to Great-Aunt Lizzie's, which none of them were really happy about, but what choice did they have?

And so, here they were, in Elizabeth's drawing room, with Matthew sat in a chair by the fire, his children close by, playing chess or Exploding Snap, or else drawing or chatting comfortably. Despite being safely out of harm's way, Matt was worried. Not about Elizabeth, no, he and his children had learned long ago that any room without Elizabeth's presence was by far a happier one. Nor was he worried about not having a job to go to, for he had been seeing it coming for months now, and besides, he had plenty of money to be getting by on. No, what worried Matthew more than anything else were the attitudes of his children.

It had started when he and Sam had gone to collect them from the Sub House the Christmas just gone. He could see at once that they were scared, thin and shaken, which did not surprise him: he had been hearing things from his colleagues at the Ministry about how the children had been treated at the school, things that inwardly made him cringe as he had to force out a laugh or two to appease his co-workers, but his heart went out to his children, and seeing them come off the subs, eyes cast down, severely shaken, some of them even bearing marks of the new punishment system, Matthew's heart bled for his children all over again, and it had been awful saying goodbye to them when he had had to in the new year, for neither father nor children wanted to leave the other, the children all crying, yet they had to go back, for they had no choice. And they looked even worse when he had seen them again for the Easter holidays.

But in the past couple of weeks, Matthew realised that it was more than just the school's new regime that was keeping his children's spirits down, but a constant presence that was missing, one who made the rest of his children lost without her, one whose spirit they all missed, one who could make them all a family again, but it was impossible, for Sian was with Chris, Kiara and Chrissie, but they all missed her, and despite knowing that Sian was all right again, Matt could see that his children still looked lost without her: even now, talking as his children were in their various activities, they were quiet. Far too quiet.

But it wasn't just this that troubled Matthew, for over the Christmas and Easter holidays he had seen how … not independent, precisely, they were from him, but how shut out he was from their lives. Not once, over the Christmas period, had any of his children come to him with their problems. They all stuck together, consoling each other. Even as they watched Sian dying they had not come to him, and Matthew was surprised by how hurt he felt, but then again, it was his own fault, as well as Susan's, for not focusing on them more.

Of course Matthew knew that his children had gone to Sian with their problems, ran to her as they would a mother - but with Sian out of the picture, who had they to turn to? Of course the answer was him, their father, but seeing as he had either been focusing on work or Sian when they were growing up, he could see why his children had not come to him, but that did not stop the pain from hurting any less.

Hadn't both Sian and Susan told him that he should spend time with the rest of them? Well, Sian more than Susan, who, truth be told, spent no more time with the rest of their darling children than he had, but in her own way, Susan did know their children. Her letters to each of them said as much.

Matthew realised that they had been right, as always, and he hated himself for not being more invested in Chrissie, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max, Ben and Dave's lives, not just Sian's. He thought that it was too late to know them, but even as he thought it, a second, more powerful voice, sounding a lot like Susan's, said, "No. There is still time. Use it now, use it well, and use it wisely."

And he had done just that: Matthew had gone straight to where his children were in Dawson Manor before the night before they went back to Dragon Mort at the end of the Christmas holidays, which happened to be Sian's room. He knocked on the door and entered, and was greeted by surprise on each of his children's faces. Some, he noticed, were even nervous by his presence. Matthew quickly reassured his children that they were not in trouble, before moving on to say how sorry he was for having abandoned them for so many years, for not giving them the love he could have and for not being the father they deserved.

"Don't worry about it, Dad. It's OK. We've always had Sian," said Beth.

As the others all nodded their heads at Beth's statement, Matthew had to smile at the naivete of the innocence of it, even as his heart broke for not doing a better job as a father, and it was at that moment that Matthew understood how much he had taken Sian for granted, and he knew that he was not the only one. But no more.

Knowing what he had to tell his children, he said, "Listen, I know you've all been used to going to Sian in the past, and I'm glad that you have whenever I haven't been here, but did you ever stop to consider that Sian might have had things to do, or wanted a few moments to herself every once in a while?"

Matthew watched as Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max, Ben and Dave thought carefully about his words, and he watched them all exchange guilty looks, and he knew he had hit his mark.

After a while, Beth said, "We never meant to overexert her, Dad."

"It's true," said Kestrel quietly. "It's just that Sian never complained, and we found it easier to go to her instead of you. We never realised we were - "

"I know, love," said Matthew quickly, putting an arm around Kestrel. "You're not the only ones who have taken Sian for granted. I have too - but that stops now, do you hear me?"

"Yes, Dad," the eight of them answered at once.

"Good. Now I want you all to promise me something."

"Promise what, Dad?" said Max.

"That you will come to me with your problems from now on. I'm meant to be your father, after all, not a stranger."

His voice sounded harsh, even to his own ears. Ever the comforting one, Kestrel said, "Dad, we're sorry, we never meant to - "

"I know, love, I know," Matthew reassured them, "but I suppose that's my fault for not spending enough time with you all when you were little. But that changes now. Sian may not be here right now, but I am, and we're going to be spending a lot more time together from now on."

The eight siblings looked at each other. Then Joe said, "But Dad, what about our homework? And school?"

Matthew looked at his children carefully and said, "I'm afraid you won't be going back to school."

"Why not, Dad?" Max asked.

"Many reasons," Matthew explained. "Not just because of the rumours I've heard about some of the new punishments Dragon Mort have put in place, and how you all looked when I saw you get off the subs, but mainly because of the Love Destroyers in general. Already I've been hearing rumours that they've taken your friend, Lincoln Lovedream, and I'm certain that if Sam, Joey and I hadn't got you when we did, that the Love Destroyers would've got you, too."

"Has this got to do with Kiara, Dad?" said Ben.

"Ben, by this point, I think everything has to do with Kiara," said Dave.

"He's right, Ben," said Matthew. "Look, I'm sorry to pull you kids out of school like this, but do you see now that it's too dangerous for you all to go back? And if I did allow you to go back, and the Love Destroyers caught you, do you have any idea of what that would do to me - what that would do to Sian if she ever found out?"

Matthew knew that he had got his children's understanding as soon as he mentioned Sian. It was Max who spoke first.

"So what happens now, Dad?"

"Well, I hate to have to do this to you all, but I'm putting in some new rules to ensure your safety. Yes, I know, I know," Matthew added at the annoyed grumbles his children were making. "Look, I don't want to do this either, but I have to in order to ensure your safety, all right?"

"Yes, Dad," his children muttered glumly.

"Good. So, from now on, we all stay mostly indoors. If you want to go outside when the weather's fine, you may do so, but ask an adult to go with you; I know we have protective enchantments around this place, but who knows what could happen. And above all, if you do go outside, make sure that you're back inside before it gets dark. Does that sound fair to all of you?"

Matthew watched his children closely as they all looked at each other, and after about a minute they all nodded. Matthew sighed in relief.

"Good, and now that's out of the way - "

"Dad?" said a small voice suddenly. Turning to see who it was, he found that it was Merida, who was looking right at him.

"Yes, Merida?"

"I miss Sian."

Just those three simple words were enough to break Matthew's heart. He nodded for Merida to come to him, which she did, hugging him fiercely. He was surprised at how fast his children had taken his words into account, but he was no less grateful for it, because it was exactly what he had wanted.

Gulping hard, Matthew said, "I know. I miss Sian too - well, we all do, really." Matthew watched his children nod at those words before continuing, "And I bet that, wherever she is, Sian's missing you just as much as we miss her."

"Even you, Dad?" said Merida cheekily.

"Well of course she misses me, even if I do annoy her sometimes," said Matthew playfully, making his children laugh. "But you know, if we think about her every day, I'm sure a part of her will know that we love her and that she's not alone."

"And just because Sian's not here right now, does not mean that she isn't with us in spirit," said Kestrel.

"Precisely," said Matthew. Looking around at his children, he asked them, "What has Sian done for you over the years?"

The eight of them answered for him all at once.

"She's protected us from harm."

"She's taught us many valuable lessons, and not just school ones."

"She read to us when we were little."

"She gives us advice and help when we don't know what to do."

"She took care of our injuries, whether big or small."

"She'd play with us if she wasn't too busy."

"We could go to her with anything and not once would she laugh."

"She's done so much for us, Dad," said Dave. "We'd all be nothing without Sian."

Hearing those words about Sian that night surprised Matthew and brought a tear to his eye. Even now, a few months later at Elizabeth's, he was still amazed at all the good Sian had done for their family; he remembered calling her on many occasions the "Guardian Angel of the Household", and what an angel she was.

Thinking back to that night, Matthew knew that that was the night that they had become closer as a family. They spent the rest of that night playing and talking together, and the letters that his children sent him from Dragon Mort became more open and honest too, for no longer did they write the words "we're all fine" whenever they would write, telling their father of all their problems, and he would reply as best he could under the circumstances. And when they came home for the Easter holidays, the meals at the dinner table were no longer spent in silence, but full of laughter and life. Of course, Sian's presence was missed, but his children found it easier to talk about her as time went on, as though she were dead and gone, which only made him more grateful that he had done the right thing by talking to his children when he did that night.

And now, seeing as Sian had nearly died had put things into perspective. He wanted to do something for his firstborn, something that would make Sian see just how much he and the rest of his children appreciated and valued her in their lives. It had to be something special, something creative, something -

"Kids!" Matthew said loudly, suddenly excited, sitting up straighter in his chair, making his children jump, as cards exploded, chess pieces scattered everywhere and Kestrel and Merida banged their heads together.

"What is it, Dad?" asked Max wearily.

"I've got an idea to show Sian just how much we all appreciate and value her, which shall be given to her one day."

He was pleased to see his children immediately perking up at the idea of doing something for Sian, and he knew that they would like it.

"What do you have in mind, Dad?" asked Merida.

"Well, I was thinking that we make Sian a scrapbook! We can fill it with photographs, letters and drawings, you know, stuff from when you were all younger, and tell her how much we love her! Although I don't know how I'm going to put photographs in there, seeing as they're all from photo albums I bought with me and I'd like to keep the original copies - "

"Don't worry, Dad, Joe and I can help you there," said Jack. "You see, a couple of years ago, we invented a machine that allows you to copy photographs."

"Haven't Muggles already invented a photocopier, though?" asked Beth.

"Yes, they have," said Joe, "but we made a handheld version, where you simply lay the photograph on the copying part, where it gets scanned by the machine, which you put directly over the photograph. Once scanned, the machine asks you how many copies you want and prints them, and the great thing is that the photographs all come out the same size as the original. The only thing is, because they're copies, the photographs don't move like the original picture, but apart from that they come out top quality."

"Well that's one thing I don't have to worry about," said Matthew, happy that he wouldn't have to part with those memories any time soon. "So, what do you say? Are you all in?"

His children easily agreed, and Kestrel found the perfect book to use: an A4, ring-bound, leather covered book that was purple, that could be fastened by two pieces of string.

"I've had this for years and have had no idea what to do with it until now," she said.

Matthew thought that it was perfect, and the family started work on the scrapbook at once. They each decided what photographs they wanted, and all of them agreed that they should have three photos per person: one of which sibling and Sian, and two different group shots. Matthew put four pictures in: one of him holding Sian after she was born; one of him and Susan on a couch together with Sian in between them, their arms around each other, the three of them smiling widely for the camera; one of Susan holding Sian when she was a baby, laughing in Sian's face; and the final photograph Matthew was going to add to the scrapbook was going to be placed at the back of it: a picture of the whole family together down by the river, all of them wet and muddy, but undeniably happy, accompanied by a letter of his own.

Looking at the photographs as they were printed, Matthew was amazed at the quality of them: true they were not moving, but they looked like new photographs, which Mathew was both pleased and impressed by.

After the photographs were completed, the family then got to choose which pages in the scrapbook they wanted, Kestrel making note of it. The family all agreed that they would all decorate the first page, and Matthew only wanted the pages near the back. After much deliberating and arguing, the order was finally agreed on, and they all set to writing letters of appreciation and love to Sian to be stuck in; Kestrel, Merida and Max decided to draw some new pictures to be stuck in, which Matthew smiled at. As he watched his children talk, squabble, laugh and work together, he could not help but think how much he had missed the noise, even if it had been a week, and he never wanted to go another day without it, he realised. So he promised, in that moment, that he would not abandon them for anything and that he would always try his best to be the father they wanted him to be.

Looking around at his family, he could see that they were a broken one, but by making this scrapbook for Sian he hoped that it would repair some of the damage. Just thinking about her, smiling and happy again, brought a smile to his face. Now Matthew longed for the day when he and the rest of his children would be reunited with Sian, for he knew, that when that day came, their broken family would be a whole one once more.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: So, this chapter was actually supposed to be part of the first chapter of this book, but you know how it is when you start writing a chapter, thinking it's going to be smaller than it actually turns out, because your pen and your mind run it longer than you first thought it out in your head, which is why I had to split it in two. But it still works, and as you can see, we go back to Dragon Mort in this chapter, and I just have to say, I really enjoyed writing this one. I really did. Next week we will be back with Kiara, but for now, try to enjoy this chapter as best you can.**

 **Chapter 2**

 **The worries of Many**

 **DEIDRE DARBUS**

Dragon Mort Magical Academy, a school that looked the same on the outside, with its vast turrets and towers, but on the inside it was oh so different. No laughter rang through the corridors any more, apart from those of the cruellest kind that came from the lips of many a Snake-Eyes student, the majority of whom seemed to be up for attacking any other student who crossed them. Cruel laughter from the Snake-Eyes, sniffles and whimpers from their victims and the sound of slow, controlled marching footsteps were all that could be heard in the corridors in those days, and any sunlight that hit the windows seemed to stop there, for the mood within the castle, for the most part, was anything but sunny. Those students that had been around when the Chamber of Mysteries was opened were taken, and the exact same air that was floating around then was back, only this time it was ten times worse.

The teachers there had a tough job, not keeping the students in line, but defending them from the Csintalans, a brother and sister who had been brought in to teach under the new regime. Most of the time, the rightful teachers of Dragon Mort defended their students from the horror of the Csintalans as best they could, but other times they were not as successful. They never saw the students being tortured, but the staff always saw the marks and the tears the next day, which made them frustrated and hurt, knowing they could do nothing about it - and the staff thought that having Tiana Triphorm as Headmistress was going to be difficult.

Deidre Darbus, Head of Lion-Heart House, thought this way too, as she sat in her office, finishing off the marking in front of her. With a last flick of her quill she put it down and rubbed her eyes beneath her square spectacles, before getting up to pour herself a glass of wine, lamenting, as she always did, on the changes that Dragon Mort had undergone.

Sitting back at her desk with wine glass in hand, Deidre thought about when it all went wrong, which was no mystery: Susan Crighton had been murdered, and She-You-Know had taken over, putting Tiana Triphorm in charge of Dragon Mort. The shock and outrage that Deidre and the rest of the staff felt at having Susan Crighton's killer as headmistress was a hard pill to swallow, yet one that they had to.

Then there was the matter of the Csintalans, or monsters as Deidre preferred to think of them. She had seen the marks of their cruelty used on many a student, even Rae-Bradley, and her heart broke for each of them. Deidre wished that she could give them a piece of her mind, but she dared not to, not just for her life, but for the lives of the students who were depending on her, too.

There was one incident, before Christmas, when Deidre thought that four students would be sent to the Csintalans to serve detention: Nikita Bore, Kestrel Dawson, Lincoln Lovedream and Keziah Rae-Bradley. The four of them had been given detention by Triphorm herself, not with Csintalans as was to be expected, but with Mina instead. Deidre did not understand why Triphorm had done it, but she did not look too deeply into it, only too grateful that those four good students had not got worse. Deidre did wonder why the four of them got detention, and when she asked Triphorm about it, she was told that they had tried to steal the Sword of Lion-Heart from her office. To what end or purpose, Deidre did not know, but the thought always managed to bring a smile to her face.

There were very few things that made Deidre smile or laugh in those days, but there would be something every now and then. One such memorable occasion was when Weeves the poltergeist sent the Csintalans on a wild goose chase all around the school, locking them in classrooms, chucking ink wells at their heads, amongst board dusters and bits of chalk, and dropping the occasional chandelier on their heads. The Csintalans had been calling for other staff members to help them, but they all said the same thing: "We have our own classes to teach, handle it yourselves," which made the Csintalans more angry, but gave the rest of the staff, besides Triphorm of course, a real kick.

Lessons were disruptive that day to say the least, which was to be expected. Professor Darbus was certain that she was not the only one who tried half-heartedly to settle her class down, just like when Tanya and Geri Fang set off those fireworks to annoy Democritus Umber, the name of whom still left a bitter taste in Deidre's mouth every time she thought of it.

Deidre honestly did not know who enjoyed themselves more, the staff or the students - apart from those in Snake-Eyes, who merely sat there, scowling and bad-tempered. Deidre knew that most of Snake-Eyes house took pride in punishing younger students, and a select group were asked to help the Csintalans administer punishments, but the mood in the castle was too good to be spoilt by the Snake-Eyes. However, the students only laughed when the Csintalans were not close by.

Another moment that made Deidre smile was when, shortly after hearing about Kara's close call with the Love Destroyers, a new channel had appeared on the wireless: _Pridewatch_ , who told the public what was really going on. Deidre had stumbled across it accidentally, and ever since that night she, Wanda, Spud and Arachne would gather in her office to listen. What surprised Deidre most was that she recognised the voices of Kara and three of her old students: Tanya and Geri Fang and their best friend, Leah Jones. Hearing them, and the things they said, Deidre honestly did not know whether to praise them or punish them some nights, but she admired their bravery by telling the wizarding world the truth. True, Tanya, Geri and Leah had been troublemakers in their school days, but now they had earned her respect and she was proud of her students; even after leaving school, she would always think of them as _her_ students.

Another incident that made Deidre smile was only about two weeks ago, when Mina decided to throw a rather loud and raucous Kiara Pride-Lander party in her cabin. Deidre remembered that it was a fair night, and everything was quiet; Deidre herself was up late finishing up her marking and the only sound that could be heard was the fire burning merrily in the grate, when suddenly, there came this loud music echoing across the grounds, accompanied by an even louder BANG. Marching over to her window, Deidre saw that it was Mina, staggering around, tankard in hand, yelling, "Get lost, yeh bunch o' Love Destroyer gits, so we can have Kiara Pride-Lander back!"

Foolish though Mina's actions were, Deidre could not help but laugh at what she was seeing before her. As Deidre looked at the windows beside her, she saw that they had all been switched on again; she would not be surprised if the vast majority of students were watching this, cheering and smiling, a thought that made her smile, too.

But the fun was not meant to last, for within minutes Ministry workers were on the scene, ready to ambush Mina, but she was too quick for them, and too strong, for her sixteen-foot half-sister Harlow had come running to help Mina from the Forest, picked her sister up and all but carried her out of the grounds, Gnasher the boarhound hot on their heels, as Ministry workers shot spell after spell after them, but of course, nothing happened.

The talk and laughter about Mina existed only in the common rooms and dormitories, for not a word was spoken about it during the day. Everyone within Dragon Mort had learned this the hard way after _Pridewatch_ had been heard for the first time, for the day after a first-year Lion-Heart girl was talking loudly at breakfast about how amazing it was, when she was dragged by the Csintalans up to the staff table, where she was then tortured and beaten ruthlessly by the monstrous brother and sister for the rest of the lunch hour, her screams of pain and terror echoing around the Great Hall for the rest of lunch. No one ate much after that, and Deidre kept on staring at her plate, her appetite gone, now feeling sick to her stomach at the abuse the students were now facing. The torturing stopped once the bell rang, and even as Deidre helped the girl to the hospital wing, giving her a good talking to as they walked, it could not stop her from hearing the girl's screams from echoing around inside her head, which she heard for the rest of the day, and which continued to haunt her in her dreams for the weeks to come. Dragon Mort really had changed.

But there was one person in her house that made Deidre smile, which surprised even her, and that was Nikita Bore. Seeing as Nikita was not taking N.E.W.T. Transfiguration, she hardly ever saw the girl, but that did not mean that she did not hear things about her: about how she was standing up for herself, for students and against the Csintalans, and how she, Kestrel Dawson, Lincoln Lovedream and Keziah Rae-Bradley had snuck out in the middle of most nights to leave taunting messages for Triphorm, which meant that Nikita and her friends were spending a lot of time in detention. Under normal circumstances, Deidre would have been angry at how foolish Nikita was being, but as things were, she could not help but feel proud of her; whenever Deidre saw Nikita looking worse for wear, she did not seem at all fazed by her injuries. Indeed, she would walk around with her head held high, as though each cut or bruise that she received was a badge of honour to her. Sometimes, Deidre would wonder where this confident, headstrong girl had come from, and what on earth had happened to the bumbling, sweet, accident-prone girl she had first met seven years ago. What or who had caused such a change in her?

Of course Deidre knew what had caused the change in Nikita. It was not just the Love Destroyers, though they were part of it. The other reason had to do with the friendship that Nikita and Kiara Pride-Lander had.

Thinking of Kiara made Deidre's smile turn sad somewhat, as her thoughts turned to Kiara Pride-Lander and her three best friends: Christopher Rickers, Christina Dawson and Sian Dawson.

As a teacher, Deidre knew that she should not have favourites, and yet she had. Those four students had frustrated her incredibly at times, and yet Deidre had never been more proud or more worried of a student before or since. They were her students, and she was damn proud of that! Susan had once told her that those four were going to be important to the school, and she was not wrong.

Kiara Pride-Lander, the Girl Who Lived, whom she had first seen as a babe being handed over to Sarabi and Sarafina from Crighton's hands on a warm May night, then again ten years later at Dragon Mort for her Sorting Ceremony, looking just like Nala, and yet she was not just Nala's daughter. Deidre had seen many glimpses of Simba in Kiara, no matter Triphorm's thoughts. Deidre would always remember that eleven-year-old girl on her broomstick, looking just like Nala, and she was glad she had not punished Kiara the day she first discovered the joys of flying. Oh, how Deidre wished she could take Kiara back to those days, with her innocence still intact, where her only worries were of homework, and she also wished that she could have done more to protect her from the horrors of the world, but that did not stop her from loving the courageous, loyal and compassionate woman she had become.

Christopher Rickers, the Dawsons' adopted son and brother, who blended in with the Dawsons completely: a love of Quidditch, fiercely protective of those closest to him and, above all else, a strong dislike of the Dark Arts and keen to put family first, always. Deidre had seen the brave, fine, charming, funny and academic young man he had become, and was proud of knowing that man.

Deidre had not been blond to how much Chris had cared for Kiara, ever since she first saw him stepping into her classroom behind Kiara, following her like a little lovestruck puppy even then. She had seen the sting of jealousy steel his heart as Kiara started to have feelings for Khan Chan, before dating him briefly in her fifth year, and Deidre watched Christopher's glum looks, and sometimes ones of anger, but what caught Deidre's eye most was that not once did he ever leave Kiara's side through all of her ups and downs, which showed great dedication and commitment on his part. True, Chris had dated Dena Wright for a while, why Deidre did not know, but they broke up some time last year, and not long after that, the day Lion-Heart won the Quidditch Cup, Christopher and Kiara had began dating. Deidre could still see them now: coming in holding hands, sharing laughter and secret smiles. But that did not last long, because Kiara knew, as did Deidre, that if She-You-Know ever found out about them that she would use Chris to get to Kiara. Deidre understood it, but she wished the war would end soon so that Christopher and Kiara could get their happily ever after, as cliché as it sounds, which they so rightfully deserve.

Christina Dawson, who was completely different from her eldest sister in every way, from her looks, her love of Quidditch and food and general academic under-achievement, something that had frustrated not just Deidre, but the Eldest Dawson Girl, too. It was truly remarkable how different the two sisters were; sometimes Deidre could still hear the arguments they would share, Sian's loud, bossy voice clashing with Christina's just as loud yet argumentative air. Yet despite this, the sisters were close for the most part, sharing a strong, firm dislike of the Dark Arts and willing to do whatever they could to help others.

And then there was Sian Dawson, the Eldest Dawson Girl, who was everything Deidre expected and more in a model student: punctual, attentive, inquisitive and brilliant. She did not share the same love of Quidditch that most of her family did, choosing to love knowledge and learning instead, always questioning everything and wanting to know more always. She had talent, of that there was no question; Sian always exceeded every task that had been thrown at her, who liked to set her goals high and enjoyed a challenge when it came along. But Sian was much more than that to the aging professor, for Deidre had seen Sian blossom from just a bossy, stubborn, quite harsh bookworm into a woman who was not afraid to stand up for what she believed in, who spoke her mind freely and showed a kind heart under a rough exterior; Deidre liked to think that Kiara's gentle, innocent influence had a lot to do with it.

Deidre also reckoned that Kiara's gentle influence helped to open Sian's heart and find love, which happened four years ago, when Sian was fourteen. She never saw a lot of Kopa Outsider, and not just because he always had most of his face covered, but whenever Deidre saw them together, she always took note of how Sian's face would soften and how her heart seemed to sparkle through her eyes.

But despite Sian's good loving heart and the caring side of her personality coming through more than it used to, and not just around her mother, it did not stop Sian's fierce, feisty side coming through when her temper rose. Three occasions stuck out most distinctly in Deidre's eyes as she thought about it. The first being when Sian was thirteen, and Triphorm had insulted her, calling her an "insufferable know-it-all" as she was covering for Timon Meers, which Sian had not like. Not one bit. Hearing from Susan what Sian had said to Triphorm a short while after it had happened, it took everything within Deidre to hold back her laughter, for it took a lot of nerve to stand up to a woman like Tiana Triphorm. Deidre remembered how nervous Sian looked when she saw her, and with any other student Deidre would have punished them, but she felt such a surge of fierce pride in having Sian Dawson as a student in that moment that she did not have the heart to be angry with her.

The second time Sian had given anyone a piece of her mind, it had been when she was fourteen, and to her mother no less, the night Kiara's name had been called out of the Goblet of Fire. Deidre had been stunned when she told her mother that she would be ignoring her for the remainder of the school year if she did not remove Kiara from the Triwizard Tournament and, true to her word, Sian had done it, but not before adding that Susan would end up regretting the decision she made, which she did. Sian not only showed her strength of mind that night, but she also showed her unwavering loyalty to Kiara, which only enhanced Deidre's respect for her.

The third time was when Sian was fifteen, during her careers advice interview, during which Democritus Umber had been there, and right from the start of the interview Deidre could see Sian's temper rising, and seeing as the man had recently taken over as Headmaster and sent Susan on the run with the help of his Ministry chums, Deidre sympathised with and understood Sian greatly. Indeed, her favourite part of the interview had been when Sian turned to Umber and told him to shut the hell up, which made Deidre bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing, not only by Sian's choice of words, but also by how Umber reacted to them.

So yes, Deidre loved Sian's feisty nature and was proud of her, but there was someone who was even more proud of her and who loved every part of her, and that was Susan Crighton, Sian's mother.

Sian had always been the apple of her mother's eye, that much was clear to see: even before she had met the girl, Deidre would always hear Susan speak proudly of Sian, and from the moment Sian arrived at Dragon Mort, Deidre could see the love that mother and daughter had for each other was so strong, so pure and as clear as daylight to anyone who watched them. They were always close; it seemed like nothing could separate them.

But something did eventually separate them, in the form of Death, whose cold, cruel hand had snatched Susan away so harshly that it was too hard to bear. The memory of Sian coming into the hospital wing the night Susan died would always haunt Deidre: no longer standing tall and strong, but appearing to draw into herself almost, and looking so lost, alone, scared, vulnerable and heartbroken, that in that moment her heart broke for that motherless young woman and her family, and as Sian sobbed in her father's arms, Deidre Darbus, who was normally a strong woman herself, cried with her.

Seeing the immediate change in Sian was awful for Deidre to watch; she remembered Sian talking to her mother's Animal Spirit a short while later, begging her not to leave, and Deidre's heart broke for Sian all over again. But leave Susan had to, and after that night, whenever Deidre saw Sian she never smiled and was almost always on the verge of tears.

Susan's funeral was a beautiful yet terrible ordeal to get through; there was hardly a dry eye in the grounds, but Sian's cries of grief after it was over were the most painful and heartbreaking of all. Deidre wanted to hold Sian, comfort her as best she could, but Sian had her father, whose comfort was enough for her in that moment.

Then, on the first of September, Deidre looked through the list of returning students, which was shorter than usual but not by much. She knew that Kiara, Christopher, Christina and Sian's names were not on there, as was to be expected. She would miss and worry about the four of them greatly, this Deidre knew. But when her eyes saw the other Dawsons' names written, Deidre made a vow then and there to protect them as much as she could, for she knew that they were in for a rough year, not just because they were close to Kiara, but also because they were the children of Susan Crighton.

When Deidre saw them that night, looking so lost and forlorn without Sian, that Deidre felt so sorry for them. But then she noticed the looks the Snake-Eyes were giving them, and it made Deidre uneasy. Looking at the Dawson siblings, she could see that they were trying to be strong, but every so often one of them would fidget and look around desperately, as though hoping that Sian would show up at any moment and save them. Looking at some of the staff next to her, Deidre could see that they were nervous too: concerned for their own students they may be, but the Heads of House knew that things were going to go downhill with Triphorm in charge, and they knew the Dawsons were going to go through hell this year. Even Mina, who was sat right next to Deidre, was watching the exchange between the Snake-Eyes and the Dawsons with her hands balled into fists, as though she wanted nothing more than to run down to the Snake-Eyes table and punch every Snake-Eyes student who threatened the Dawsons, and although Deidre understood Mina's thoughts, she cast a disapproving eye at her, knowing that to do such a thing would not end well for her, especially in the current climate.

But it was not just the Snake-Eyes who were sending the Dawsons malevolent looks, Deidre noticed. The Csintalans were eyeing them also, making Deidre even more uneasy. The next day, Deidre remembered the eight Dawson siblings being called up to stand in front of the staff table at breakfast the next morning by the Csintalans, making almost every heart stop. Deidre watched, her heart in her mouth, as the eight Dawsons looked at each other nervously before making their way up to them. They were then made to face the rest of the school, where every head was turned to them. No one spoke, no one moved; the only sounds that could be heard was the rattling of cutlery and the sharp, ragged intakes of breath. Looking around the Great Hall, Deidre could see many of the students exchanging nervous, worried glances, and some at the Snake-Eyes table were watching with eager apprehension, making Deidre shiver with disgust.

For Deidre and most of the staff and students, the rest of breakfast passed horribly, as all eight of the Dawson siblings were given the Cruciatus Curse, one by one, and were beaten up and cut. Their screams of pain echoed around the Hall horribly, making almost everyone in the Hall flinch and cower; some, Deidre noticed, could not bear to watch, not that she could blame them. She herself was shaking with barely controlled rage, as tears of fury streamed down her face at seeing such cruelty happen before her eyes. She turned to Triphorm, silently begging for her to stop it, but the woman just sat there, her face an emotionless mask, and did not stop the Csintalans from torturing the Dawsons until the last one was left a cowering ball on the floor. Triphorm then stood up as the Csinatalans returned to their seats and addressed the school, saying, "Let this be a lesson to all of you who stand behind Kiara Pride-Lander." She then sat back down and continued eating, as did the Csintalans and many of the Snake-Eyes', but no one else ate or spoke for the rest of breakfast, too traumatised by the horror of what they had just seen. No one even dared to help the Dawsons afterwards just in case they were attacked, too, not even the teachers, much as they wanted to.

Deidre tried her best to pull herself together after that abominable display of terror, but even she felt herself cracking, and it was not until early that evening after dinner when she was alone in her office, looking through her lesson plans for the next day, that she did crack, for there came a knock on her door, revealing the eight Dawson siblings outside, all of whom were looking worse for wear, and even though it was hours after breakfast, they still looked rather shaken and afraid. Deidre wondered how many times her heart would break for these children, and seeing how lost and alone they looked, Deidre knew that she would be a monster if she turned them away, so she stood aside at once, and the eight Dawsons entered without a moment's hesitation.

Once inside, with a cup of tea and a Ginger Newt each, the Dawsons began to talk. Not about the torture they had all endured, that was obvious to Deidre; she could tell that that was something they would keep and discuss between themselves. Instead they talked about Sian, saying things about her that Deidre never knew and would hold in confidence. And during the time Deidre spent with them that night, she got to know the youngest son, Maximus, better: a kind, caring, generous, loving young man, who Deidre could not wait to know better. And when the Dawsons left her office that night, Deidre told them that they could come to her if ever they wanted someone to talk to, which happened a lot over the next few months, seeing as the torture sessions only got worse for them, meaning that whenever the eight Dawson siblings went to see Deidre, they would often cry there; even the boys were not ashamed to shed a tear or two in front of Deidre, which she did not judge them for, for after they left her office after each bout of crying, she would cry too, for she hated seeing those poor children suffer, considering all the suffering they had been through already.

This continued until the Christmas holidays, and Deidre honestly did not know who was more relieved to be going home for the holidays, she or them, and when they came back in the new year, Deidre knew that it was going to start all over again, which it did, until the Easter holidays, and Deidre breathed a sigh of relief for those kids, knowing that they would be safe at home for a short while away from the school, for she knew, especially after Kestrel's antics, that it would only be a matter of time before the Love Destroyers showed up to take her, Bethany, Merida, Joseph, Jack, Maximus, Benjamin and David away to who knows where, and she hoped and prayed that Matthew would keep those children safe.

She missed the eight of them whilst they were away, and thought about them constantly, along with Kiara, Christopher, Christina and Sian, and worried about all of them to no end, which could not be helped, for Deidre cared a great deal about each and every one of those children.

Not a day went by when Deidre would not think of and worry about them, but it was not until about a week ago when, as Deidre was getting ready for bed, that her worries became tantamount, for a bright white light shone at the foot of her bed, growing larger until it became a screen, and on it came the image of a girl who looked like death more than anything else, yet she looked familiar to Deidre, but she did not recognise the girl, even though she felt so sorry for the poor girl and her heart clenched painfully for her. It was only when Deidre saw Christopher, Kiara and Christina kneel beside the dying girl that Deidre knew who it was: it was the Eldest Dawson Girl!

Deidre's jaw dropped in shock. She could not believe what she was seeing; she could not believe that the girl lying on the ground, who looked like a corpse, was Sian. Deidre's heart broke for her yet again, and she could not stop the tears from falling, not that she wanted to. How did this happen? How did Sian get to be so ill? But when Deidre quickly learned that Sian's mother was to blame for all this, Deidre's shock quickly turned to anger. How could Susan do that, and to Sian no less? In that moment, Deidre wished that Susan was still alive so that she could kill her!

But the most memorable part for Deidre was when she saw the Oracle performing some truly extraordinary magic to save and heal Sian's body, mind, heart and soul - along with Susan's healing phoenix tears - to save her from the brink of death. It was a moment that Deidre was certain she would remember for the rest of her life, of that she was certain, and as she watched Sian chastise and then forgive Susan, Deidre realised hat she had never been prouder of Sian, nor had she ever been happier to see Sian smiling and happy, truly relieved that one of her favourite students was truly back to her old self again, as tears of anger and sadness turned to tears of pure joy.

Of course, Deidre was glad that Kiara was not forgotten, and she was pleased that the Oracle acknowledged her and Sian's friendship, for any good person living could see the impact those two girls had on each other's lives, the good they had done for each other over the years and how much they meant to each other. If anything, they were more like sisters, maybe not by blood, but by soul, at least.

But then joy got replaced by shock and terror, learning from the Oracle that the battle would come on the first of May, which was not that long at all, seeing as it was now the beginning of March, but Deidre decided to put it out of her mind for the time being, choosing to focus instead on how good it was to have Sian back to her normal self again.

The next day at breakfast, Deidre looked around the Great Hall, surveying the students who had chosen to stay behind for the Easter holidays closely, and as she looked she noticed that some were looking rather tired and weary: these included a few students from Badger-Stripes and Raven-Wings, and quite a few Lion-Hearts; even Keziah Rae-Bradley, sitting alone at the Snake-Eyes table, was looking lost and weary, the only Snake-Eyes student that did. Looking sideways, Deidre saw that the Csintalans were lost in their own conversation, oblivious to the rest of the world around them, as the rest of the staff looked nervous, tired and a little surprised, and it made Deidre think: could it be possible that those closest to Sian Dawson had seen what the Oracle had shown her last night? Looking down the table at Spud, Wanda and Arachne, she knew that they had.

That evening, Wanda, Spud and Arachne met up with Deidre in her office. The four of them did not do this often, choosing to meet up only when the Csintalans were on patrol duty on the opposite side of the school, or else when they were asleep. Either way, the four Heads of House made sure that they were safe before meeting up secretly.

"I can't believe what we saw last night," Wanda Winds began shakily in her squeaky voice.

"I know what you mean, Wand. Seeing the Eldest Dawson Girl in that state was truly a horrid sight," said Spud.

"You all saw it, too?" said Deidre, glad her suspicions were confirmed.

"Of course we did, Deidre," said Arachne, her long, bony body towering over all of them as usual. "But what I don't understand is why none of my students know about this, as well as the Csintalans."

"Maybe the Oracle was trying to protect Sian and her family?" suggested Wanda. "After all, can't you imagine the type of danger they'd be in if the Love Destroyers knew about this?"

Arachne nodded thoughtfully. Then, turning to Deidre, she said, "Do you know where Sian, Kiara and the other two are, Deidre?"

Deidre shook her head. "I have no idea where they are, but maybe that's for the best. I think I saw Samantha Desjardin there, Sian's cousin who got married last summer, so I hope they're at her place and are safe."

"We all want that, Deidre," said Spud. "I just can't believe that Crighton was responsible for what happened to the Eldest Dawson Girl. Who'd ever have thought that would happen?"

"Susan must have her reasons, and for all we know she might have thought she was looking out for Sian, as ridiculous as that might sound to us," Deidre finished darkly.

"I know I haven't known Sian for very long," said Arachne, "but Sian seemed like a nice, sweet girl, if a tad bossy at times" (Deidre and Wanda exchanged smiles at that), "but she has plenty of talent that I'm sure she'll do great things with."

"Well anyone could have told you that Sian Dawson has talent, Arachne," said Deidre shortly. "It's there, clear as day, from the moment you meet her. Why, I remember the first time I saw her, and it was not when she came to this castle as a student, either."

That got Wanda, Spud and Arachne's attention.

"When was the first time, Deidre?" said Wanda.

"It was three years before Sian came here as a student," Deidre told them. "Susan brought her here, for you see, Sian was sick at the time, from what I do not know, for Susan wouldn't tell me. I think she brought her here because of all the magic in this place, hoping that it would help heal Sian faster. Anyway, one morning I went to Susan's office and knocked. I didn't hear Susan's voice telling me to come in, but the door opened anyway. So I went inside, shut it, and when I turned around, there was this girl sitting there with her back to me, quite tall for her age, giggling to herself. I didn't know what to say, having no idea who she was. But when I saw her turn sideways, I saw, just from her profile, how much she looked like Susan, and I knew that she was Sian, for I had heard Susan talk so much about her.

"I then watched as she got these leaves and twigs in her hands, and somehow, she made them into this bird, which soared around the room, chirping and tweeting like a real bird. I have no idea how she did it, but I was amazed and impressed by how controlled her magic was. Then Susan came down from upstairs and Sian ran to her mother, eager to show her what she had made, and I saw the pride and love in Susan's eyes as she scooped Sian up in her arms, and I knew, in that moment, two things: that Susan and Sian adored each other, and I could not wait for this girl to become a student so that I could see what she could accomplish with a wand."

Wanda, Spud and Arachne were all listening to Deidre's story attentively. When she had finished, Wanda said, "That truly is extraordinary, Deidre!"

"Well, we all know the Eldest Dawson Girl has talent, it's not that surprising to learn she had so much control without a wand at such a young age, if you think about it," said Spud.

"I truly wish I had seen that," said Arachne. "But I don't understand how Sian can still love and trust Crighton after everything she did to her baffles me - "

 _"Arachne!"_ Deidre hissed.

Arachne looked at Wanda, Spud and Deidre, who were all looking at her with mixed expressions of shock and outrage at her words.

"What? What did I - ?"

"Arachne, did you not hear what Deidre just said?" said Wanda. "Sian _adored_ her mother."

"Exactly," said Spud. "Besides, Sian's forgiven Crighton for all that, and if you mention any of what you just said to Sian, she will hit you with it."

"Which is why, Arachne," Deidre finished, "whatever you have against Crighton, please keep it to yourself, for despite what Peter Meter has written about her, Sian will defend her to the moon and back."

"All right, all right, I won't say anything," said Arachne, raising her hands in defeat. Then, after a short pause, she said, "What's Sian been like, anyway?"

"As a student or generally?" Deidre asked.

"Generally," said Arachne, sounding genuinely interested. "Tell me everything about the girl you've taught for six years."

And Deidre, Spud and Wanda did just that. They told Arachne all the obvious things: that Sian was a model student, had top grades, hardly ever put a foot out of line - but seeing as Deidre was her Head of House, and the one who knew her best out of all of them, she was the one who spoke the most. Indeed, she wasted no time in telling the other three everything Sian had said to Triphorm the day she stood up to her when she was thirteen, which she had heard from Crighton.

"So Sian actually stood up to Triphorm, all because she had called her an 'insufferable know-it-all'?" chortled Arachne. "Good Lord, I wish I had seen that!"

"Y'know, I heard the kids talking about that, but I thought it was all just a rumour," said Spud buoyantly, looking pleasantly surprised. "Now that I think about it, it's no wonder Triphorm was in such a bad mood that day."

"How did you feel about it, Deidre?" Wanda asked.

Deidre took a sip of wine and said, "Well, you would have thought that I would have been angry and disappointed with Sian, and that I would have punished her for what she said, wouldn't you? But I was anything but angry. Believe me, I surprised even myself, but try as I might, I found no anger for her, only respect and pride, for I don't think many people have been brave enough to stand up to Triphorm and put her in her place like Sian did that day. And I think she earned a lot of respect from most of the students that day, too."

"That wouldn't surprise me," said Arachne. "I bet you would like to see Sian quite that rallied up again, wouldn't you, Deidre?"

"Actually, Arachne, Triphorm's not the only terrible teacher Sian's stood up to," said Deidre. "In fact, she's stood up to someone far worse than Tiana Triphorm …"

"Hard to imagine anyone worse than Triphorm," Spud muttered. Wanda and Arachne nodded their silent agreement.

"Really?" said Deidre carefully. "Not even Democritus Umber?"

Deidre had to fight back a laugh at the astonished looks on Wanda, Spud and Arachne's faces.

"Where - when - how?" Arachne stuttered, leaning forward, her expression eager.

"It was two years ago, when I had to give careers advice to the students," Deidre explained, "and I could tell, from the moment those two saw each other, that things were not going to go down well."

"He didn't just take a pop at Crighton, surely?" Arachne asked.

"Oh no, it was more than just Susan," said Deidre indignantly. "Umber was opposed to Sian's choice of career, her family - you name it, he went there. Sian got so fed up with him, she told him to shut the hell up, her words, not mine!"

Wanda, Spud and Arachne all laughed at that.

"She never did?" Spud chuckled.

"Oh, she did." Deidre laughed. "I struggled not to laugh at that. The look on his face, though - classic!"

The four Heads of House all laughed at that, and when they all retired for the evening, Deidre, Wanda, Spud and Arachne all went to bed with a newfound respect for the Eldest Dawson Girl.

But now, the night after, Deidre felt worried again. She did not know where Kiara, Christopher, Christina and Sian were. True, she had seen Samantha and her husband Ferdinand were there with them at the time, but her four favourite students could be anywhere by now.

As Deidre stepped to the window, surveying the serene starry night before her, she thought, as did the countless other who had seen what the Oracle had shown her, whether students, staff or neither: _Where are Kiara, Christopher, Christina and Sian now? And are they safe?_


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: So, here comes another chapter focused solely on Kiara and Sian. A couple of things to bear in mind here: first, you will see why I do not want anyone to know what _A Mhaighdean Bhan Uasal_ means in English. Also, if you remember in chapter 2 of the first part of the seventh book, then you will remember that Max did something horrible to Sian when they were kids, but it was not properly explained what happened. Well, in this chapter, you will finally get an answer to that. So, enjoy this chapter, and I'll be back same time next week. **

**Chapter 3**

 **A Chat by the Sea**

 **KIARA**

I was sat by myself next to Dokey's grave, doing nothing, thinking nothing, just listening to the peaceful sounds of the ocean and the gulls crying in the distance. It was, truly, very peaceful there.

It had been two days since we had arrived at Sandwaves Cottage, two days in which I was already getting tired of how crowded it was. So I came here often, to Dokey's grave, where I would sit in my own little bubble, thinking of everything and nothing, until someone found me. I did not mind the solitude, though. In the past two days I had learned that it's OK to want to be by yourself every once in a while, for it helped to clear your -

"She was brave, you know," said a soft voice behind me.

I started and turned around: I had not heard Sian come up behind me, so consumed I was in my own little bubble. Even though it had only been two days, it still seemed strange to me how healthy and happy and _whole_ she looked; but if you really wanted to know that Sian was back to herself, all you had to do was look into her eyes, for in them she had her old spark and shine and zest for life back.

"Er - what?" I said.

Sian nodded her head to Dokey's grave. "Dokey. What she did to get us out of there was an incredibly brave thing to do."

Having finally cottoned on to what she was saying, I quickly said, "Oh, yeah, I know she was."

Sian chuckled and rolled her eyes. Then she asked me hesitantly, "Can I join you?"

"Of course," I said, for I did not mind Sian's company.

Sian looked relieved as she sat down next to me, her legs crossed. For a moment or two, all was still between us, then I said, "What are you doing out here, anyway?"

Sian sighed and said, still keeping her gaze fixed on the ocean, "I've just had to get away from Chrissie. She's been clinging on to me like a little puppy non-stop for the past two days. I know I almost died, and I know that she loves me, but it's beginning to drive me mad now. I think Chris understood my need to get away from her for a bit, because he struck up a conversation with her about Quidditch. I cast him a grateful smile, looked out the window, saw you sitting here all alone and hoped you wouldn't mind some company. So here I am."

I looked at Sian teasingly then and said, "So, I take it that just because you've had a near-death experience that you and Chrissie aren't going to change that much around each other, then?"

That got Sian to look at me, which she did, with an annoyed expression as she said, "Kiara, it's going to take a lot more than just a near-death experience to make Chrissie and I change the way we act around each other. I would have thought you'd have known that by now."

"Well, one can dream, can't they?" I said, making Sian laugh. It was good to hear her laugh again, I mused. I never knew how much I had missed it until now.

We fell into silence again, both of us looking out over the ocean, when I heard Sian humming the song her mother had sang as she lay dying. I looked at her: she was holding her mother's phoenix pendant in her hands as she hummed, a small smile on her face.

"What is that?" I asked her, making Sian stop and look at me, confused. I hated to stop her, for she looked very peaceful and happy, but I had to know what it was.

"What d'you mean, Kiara?"

"That song you were humming, what is that? And how do you know it?"

"My mother," Sian answered simply. "That's how I know it. Whenever we were together when I was a kid we would sing it together in her study at the Manor, but it was only at night. She gave me a music box when I was eight that played the song, so that I could imagine that she was singing with me whenever I opened it. She gave it to me to make the separation easier for both of us whenever she went to Dragon Mort, for she missed me as much as I missed her. Neither of us liked it all that much - the separation, I mean - but it was always inevitable."

I nodded at that, thinking of nothing to say. I looked at Sian, and I could see that she was not in a happy place, wherever she was. I had seen plenty of the unhappy Sian over the past few months, so I decided to snap her out of it.

"Sian?" I said gently.

She started and looked at me, smiling quickly. "Sorry, I just got caught up in some old memories, that's all. Nothing to worry about."

I could see that Sian was being honest, and I wanted to take her attention away from any bad memories for the time being, so I asked, "What are the lyrics for that song? The ones that your mother sang?"

Sian looked at me, surprised.

"Why do you look at me that way?"

"Because you already know them," Sian said simply.

"I do?" I said, confused, for I had never heard of those lyrics before Crighton had sung them.

Sian just rolled her eyes and said, "They're the words I've been embroidering on to the cushions that I've been giving you for Christmas for six years. I thought they'd be a nice touch."

I was amazed by just how much detail Sian always put into her work, but I was curious about one little thing.

"What do they mean?"

"You want to know what the lyrics to 'Noble Maiden Fair' mean in English? 'Noble Maiden Fair''s the title of the song," Sian explained.

"Yes, I do," I said. "But why did you ask if I want to know the translation?"

Sian shrugged and said, "I just think that when you hear something but don't understand what it means in its native tongue, there's a sort of beauty about it, which gets ruined slightly when you learn what the words mean."

Sian, as usual, did have a point, but I had to know. "I'm sure. Please."

Sian pulled out a folded sheet of parchment out of a pocket of her jacket which she handed to me. I took it from her eagerly, opened it and read the translated lyrics. When I had finished, I had to admit that the words were beautiful, but after hearing what it sounded like in its original language and verse, some of the novelty had gone. I handed the parchment back to Sian, who was watching me expectantly.

"Well?" she said, taking the parchment back from me and putting it back in her pocket.

"You're right, now that I know what it means, it's lost some of its beauty."

Sian gave me her classic 'I told you so' look, before the two of us fell into a comfortable silence again. After about a minute or so, Sian said, "You let her in again, didn't you? The night we came here?"

I nodded. "Yeah, I did. But before you start having a go at me, Sian, I was trying to block her out, but the pain in my scar was too overwhelming for me to ignore in the end."

"Really?" said Sian. "So you managed to keep her out for long periods of time, did you?"

I thought carefully before I answered. "Yes, I did. There were times, though, when I caught flashes of where she was until I succumbed fully in the end."

Sian studied me thoughtfully for a few seconds, then said, "Well, it's a start, and quite an improvement on your Occlumency attempts, I suppose."

I did not know what to say to that, so I said nothing, for I was thinking of how to tell Sian what Zira did in the Dragon Mort grounds that night. She was not going to like it, but she had to know. So I took a deep breath and said, "Sian?"

"Hmm?"

"You know when She-You-Know found out the Stick of Fear was last with your mother, and she went to Dragon Mort to get it?"

"Yes, what about it?" I saw that Sian looked apprehensive.

"Well … she had to break into your mother's tomb at Dragon Mort to get it," I said slowly. "I'm sorry."

I saw hurt and anger cross over Sian's face for a moment, before she sighed resignedly, though her anger was still there, and after a moment or two she said, "I'm not that surprised, to be honest."

"You're not?" I asked, surprised by her honest words.

Sian shook her head. "NO. Once you told Chris, Chrissie and I where the wand was and who with, I had an inkling that this would happen. Thank you for confirming my suspicions, Kiara. Oh, and if you ever do manage to finish off She-You-Know for good, be sure that you remember what she did to my mother's tomb, not just your parents and the rest of the world, OK?"

"OK," I said, because I knew that she was right. But talking about Crighton made me want to know how Sian viewed her, and what better time for me to ask than now, when Sian was back to her old self again.

"Sian, will you tell me about your mother? The woman you knew?" I asked.

I must confess that I thought Sian would shake her head, saying that it was too soon. What I did not expect, however, was for her to say snarkily, "Why don't you just read Peter Meter, Kiara? That should tell you everything you need to know."

I did not say anything, because I knew that she was right. I also had not realised until that moment just how much my words against Crighton had hurt her. So I decided to make it right.

"Look, I'm sorry for all the horrible things I said about Crighton in front of you when you were ill," I told her. "It was unfair of me not to think of how you would feel, but the only reason I ever said any of those things was because I was hurt and angry at your mother for not trusting me as much as her. So please, Sian? Please will you tell me?"

Sian looked at me, her face unreadable. After a moment, she nodded and said, "My mother was everything you'd expect her to be and more, Kiara. Kind, funny, charming, beautiful, intelligent, wise, protective of those closest to her, willing to go the extra mile for anyone who needed help, and she could be quite bossy when she wanted to. She was, of course, a wonder with a wand, and would stand up to my father whenever he did or said something stupid or something that wasn't to her liking …"

As Sian was describing Crighton, I could not help but think whether it was not just her mother she was describing, for much of what she was describing sounded a lot like her, which really should not have surprised me, knowing how alike Sian and her mother were.

" … and she was also gentle and caring, and a great book lover with a brilliant mind to match. She had the voice of an angel when she sung, and whenever she would look at me she made me feel like I was the most special, most important person in the world to her.

"But them" Sian went on, frowning slightly, "she could have quite an annoying side to her, too. All parents do, you know. She would keep things to herself, which for the most part would be things like surprises she would give me and my siblings, to where we would be going on holiday, just she and I together. But there was this one thing that my mother would do that really annoyed me, for I'd say something cheeky or sarcastic to her as she was walking to a door, and she would stop, turn around, look at me for about five seconds, saying nothing, her face expressionless, before she would turn around and walk out the door."

"Really?" I said, laughing with surprise as Sian shook her head in annoyance, though I saw a playful twinkle in her eye. "And she would never say a word to you before she left a room?"

"Never," said Sian, "and I don't expect to get an answer from her any time soon, either."

We both laughed at that, and as I watched Sian talking about Crighton, I could see in her eyes how much she loved and adored her mother. No wonder she hadn't taken kindly to my harsh words about her.

"So, after she died," I said, after our laughter died, "what was it like?"

Sian shook her head, sadness etching every line of her face. "It was horrible for me in those days, Kiara. The days were bearable, at least, for I could do things to keep me busy, but the nights were the worst, for I would lie there for hours at night, and then when I finally did get to sleep, I would dream that my mother was alive and we were happy, before out of nowhere she would get hit with a Killing Curse, and when I looked down to see her body, there would be nothing there, for everything was dark and I was so alone, by which point I would wake up screaming and crying. I shut almost everyone out, my own siblings included, because I didn't want them to see me as weak because of all the crying that I was doing, for I have always been the strong one in the family." Sian then looked at me, her eyes glazed with unshed tears. "There are no words to describe the pain I was in, Kiara."

By that point, Sian could go on no more: she put her head in her hands and wept. I edged over to her, put my arm around her and pulled her to me, giving her the only comfort I could. After a while, once I felt her breathing become normal again, I let go of her gently.

"I'm sorry," I said at once as Sian dried her eyes, for I felt horrible for asking Sian to relive her most painful days. "I shouldn't have - "

"No, it's OK," said Sian, blowing her nose, sniffing, and smiling at me. "It's a relief for me to get it all out there, and I'm glad that you know now. Thank you for listening, Kiara. You are truly a good friend."

I smiled at her. Silence fell between us again, and nothing could be heard except the comforting sounds of the ocean spray wash over us, as a breeze whipped at our hair and clothes. After a while, I heard Sian sigh heavily. I turned to her, and I saw that she was deliberating something.

"What is it, Sian?"

Sian started and looked at me. Recovering swiftly, she said hesitantly, "You asked me something hard, and now I'm going to ask you something difficult … that concerns the night my mother died …"

Now it was my turn to sigh deeply, for I knew what she was asking.

"You want to know what happened after we left the school that night, don't you?"

"Yes," said Sian, looking at me earnestly. "Kiara, you told me months ago, not long after I had lost her, that I wasn't ready to know. But I believe I am now. So please, Kiara, will you tell me?"

Looking at Sian, I knew that she was right. The time had come for her to know. So I told Sian everything what happened after Crighton and I had got to the cave, about how Crighton had to cut herself in order to give the cave her blood, the body that had jumped out of the lake after I had tried to summon the fake Horcrux, the tiny boat that was pulled out of the water by a chain, how Crighton and I had sailed across it to the island in the centre of the lake, from which protruded a bright green glow, and how I had spotted a body under the lake; how Crighton had tried to touch the potion, the source of the green glow, but couldn't, and how she had to drink it all in order to get to the fake Horcrux lying at the bottom. I described in detail everything Crighton said: once or twice I asked Sian if she wanted me to stop, for she looked like she was either going to cry or pass out a couple of times, but she encouraged me to keep going, which I did. So I went on to tell Sian that after Crighton had finished off the potion, she had collapsed, and try as I might, I could not magic water, and that as soon as I had splashed the deadly cold water from the lake in Crighton's face, Inferius had come out of the lake and began to drag me down, and I could not fight them off, no matter what I did, until Crighton had produced that ring of fire, sending the Inferius back into the lake.

"... then I ran to help your mother, we got back in the boat, which took us back to the shore. We got off. I used the cut in my arm which I got when I fell on the rock in the centre of the lake to open the doorway, and once outside I helped your mother swim back to the mainland. Once out of the water I Apparated us back to Dragsmeade, and after about a minute Sir Smoothster came running out to meet us. He told us of the Death Trail. Crighton asked him to send word to the Ministry, then asked me to fetch his brooms from behind the bar. I think you can work out what happened from there," I finished, turning to look at Sian, whose eyes were wide with shock, and the blood had gone from her face.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I never should have - "

"No, it's OK," said Sian. "I asked, remember? And yes, it is horrible to hear those things, but it's a relief to know, really it is. You see, Kiara, ever since the night my mother died, what happened after the two of you left the castle has been bugging me ever since, and knowing now what she went through that night, you were right not to tell me, for I wouldn't have been ready for all the horror that you both went through. I'm glad I know now, anyway."

"You are?" I asked, surprised by how well Sian was taking it.

"Yes," she said. "It's a relief for me to know, for it means I that I have closure. At last."

And as she finished saying this, she heaved a great sigh, and when she released it, it seemed to me like Sian was getting rid of all the worry, the fear and the questioning; she even looked happier, as though a great weight had just been removed from her shoulders.

Silence fell between us again. Thinking of Crighton made me think of my own family, something I had not done in a long time. Sitting there, I prayed for my father, my mother, my little brother Kion, and my grandmothers, Sarabi and Sarafina. Were they all right? Were they thinking of me? Were they all missing me as much as I missed them? Had any of them been captured? Were any of the dead? These thoughts spun through my mind, until I heard Sian ask, "What's wrong, Kiara?"

I started and looked at her. Sian was watching me, concerned. I hesitated to tell her what was on my mind, but then, I reasoned with myself, she had opened up to me not too long ago, so why shouldn't I open up to her? So I told her, "I was thinking - worrying, actually - about my family."

"Aren't we all," Sian stated, smiling slightly. Even though it was not a question, I nodded anyway.

"I'm just wondering if they're all right," I told her, "but I can't help thinking if they're dead, or worse, or - "

"Kiara, trust me, your family's not dead," said Sian, certainty in her tone, and even though she said it with great conviction, it wasn't enough to clear the doubts from my mind.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because She-You-Know wants your parents just as much as she wants you, Kiara, and if they were found, it'd be front page news, wouldn't it? Besides, Sam told me that your parents and Kion are with the rest of my family still, and the fact that nothing has been heard of your grandmothers since they went into hiding all those months ago with your aunt, uncle and cousin has got to count for something, hasn't it?"

Sian's words comforted me, and I smiled at her, grateful as always for her advice, and seeing as we were on the subject of family, I decided to ask Sian about hers.

My first thought was to ask her whether she missed them, but I stopped myself, thinking that this was a stupid question. So instead I asked, "What would you give to be with them right now, Sian?"

"Anything," she said simply. "Not a day goes by when I don't think about them, wondering how they are, what they're doing, if they're thinking of me and missing me as much as I miss them .. but somehow, I know my family are thinking of me. For I can feel it."

"How so?"

Sian turned her gaze to the heavens and said, "Before you go to bed at night, look at the stars, because chances are whoever you're missing will be doing exactly the same thing, and that way you won't feel so alone."

I found it amazing that the most simplest of words that came from Sian gave me the most comfort, for there was a truth and wisdom in her words that I had not realised how much I had valued until now. I was brought back to earth by another heavy sigh by Sian; she looked sad again, and I knew why.

"Thinking of your family, Sian?"

She nodded solemnly. "I miss them all - even Max, who I never thought I would miss after what he did to me when we were kids …"

"What did he do to you?" I asked her gently, hoping that she would tell me.

For an answer, Sian took off her heavy leather blue gloves and showed me her hands. I looked at them and gasped, for the backs of her hands were covered in thin white scars, all overlapping each other.

"How did this happen?" I asked in a hushed voice, horrified.

"Max," Sian answered simply, putting her gloves back on. "It happened when I was nine and he was seven. I remember when we were younger, that Max was a very sweet boy, very clever, very funny. He would look up to me like the rest of my siblings would, and for a time, life rolled along quite smoothly for my dear siblings and I.

"And then, almost a year prior to when he attacked me … it was like his entire personality had changed overnight: gone was the sweet brother I knew, for he had been replaced by his evil twin, at least that's what I told myself in those days. Anyway, he was now cruel and unkind to me. No one else, just me. He would pull my hair and play some cruel tricks on me, as well as say mean things to me, both to my face and behind my back. I hated it. I tried to tell my parents about him, but they wouldn't listen, saying that it was just a phase Max was going through and that he'd get over it soon enough. I don't know what hurt me more: my parents not taking me seriously, or having to come to terms with my little brother as my bully."

My heart broke for Sian as she told me all this. How awful it must have been for her, I thought, to have no support from anyone about your brother being a bully to you and having to handle it all on your own at such a young age. I kept quiet, though, knowing that the story was not yet done.

"Whether my siblings were brave enough to stop him or not, I don't know, but I often saw them giving Max harsh, warning glances; even Ben and Dave, Max's best friends, weren't impressed by his behaviour. And so it went on.

"It finally came to a head a year later. I remember that I was walking along a corridor, minding my own business, when Max jumps out of nowhere with a red-hot poker in hand and sends me crashing to the floor. I saw his mad, evil face leering over me before I saw the poker. I quickly covered my face to avoid getting scratched there, but that didn't stop Max: he kept slashing me and slashing me, laughing at my screams of pain and my feeble attempts for him to stop.

"Eventually, though, after God knows how long, he did stop, but only because of my parents. I heard their footsteps coming quickly down the corridor, and the next thing I knew Max was being hauled off me and I was in the comfort of my mother's warm, loving arms. Looking down at my hands through my tear-filled eyes, all I could see was blood, and that, added to the pain of what Max did to me, made me cry even harder, and I clung to my mother, not caring if I ruined her clothes with blood or not. My mother understood, for she just held me tighter as she scooped me up in her arms, carrying me to her office, saying soothing sounds and sayings in my ear, and often leaving a soft kiss on the crown of my head all the way there."

Sian wiped away a solitary tear before continuing, "I noticed, before I was carried to my mother's office, that there was a scuffle going on between my father and Max. He got the poke off him, put it back in the drawing room and then carried Max to another part of the house. I didn't look at my brother as he was being carried away; I didn't want to see the look on his face as he was being taken off, for I knew that the look he gave me before he attacked me would haunt me for a while, but I did hear his yells as he was taken away. Once his voice had faded completely, that was when my mother took me to her office to patch me up as best she could before allowing my other brothers and sisters in.

"Ma stayed with us all day, comforting us, playing with us and reading us stories, while Dad was downstairs making calls as to where Max could go, for my parents seemed to have come to a silent agreement that Max couldn't stay with us knowing what he did to me. It was only late that evening that we saw our father, nodding for our mother to come with him. She told us all to stay in her office before following him from the room. The next we saw our parents was late that night, when most of us were starting to fall asleep. They sat down and told us that Max had been sent to a care home, where his behavioural problems could be looked at carefully. My parents then hugged and kissed me and apologised to me for not listening to me sooner, which I received gratefully."

"Did anyone ask when Max was coming back?" I asked.

"Merida did," said Sian quietly. "She and Max had always been close, and still are. Our parents told us that Max wouldn't be coming back. They didn't say how long for, but I think we all knew that it would be a few years before he came home. I was glad of this, because that boy was not my brother any more. That day, my heart hardened against him, and my family quickly learned not to mention him - well, not when I was in the same room as the rest of them, anyway."

I nodded, understanding why she would think that way. But there were a couple of things that did not add up with her story.

"So, if Max was such a little hell raiser, why is he back with your family now, looking and acting like he wouldn't hurt a fly? And how did he get to come home, anyway?"

"You're forgetting, Kiara," said Sian gently, "it's been eight years since that transpired, and things have changed during that time. Ma and Merida were the only ones of us who ever visited him, and Dad would if he wasn't busy. Over eight years, the three of them told me how much he had changed for the better, but I didn't want to believe it. The memory of our last encounter still frightened me, and I didn't want to get my hopes raised thinking that he really had changed, only to have them dashed."

"OK, I get that," I said, still missing something. "So how did you change your mind about Max, then?"

"Well, what made me change my mind about him was when I got a letter from my mother shortly after her death that she had written when she was alive to go and see him. I remember that I got it about two weeks before coming to get you from your grandmothers' cottage for the last time. Anyway, in the letter, Ma wrote that now she was dead, she wanted to have her family all under one roof again, and that I should be the one to convince him to come back home. Seeing a it was my mother's last request, and knowing that I always kept my promises to my mother, I reluctantly agreed. So I pulled out the contact information my mother had written for me, wrote to the place where Max was and requested a meeting with him. I received a reply a few days later with the date and time for my visit.

"When I got there and saw Max and talked to him, it was only then that I believed that he had changed for the better. Apparently he talked to Harry Potter a few years ago, and he started to help Max to not be so angry with the world because of what happened to him, and Max took that advice to heart: he became more attentive in his classes, his grades changed drastically, he got himself a girlfriend, and because of his chat with Harry, he could finally admit that he was jealous of me, which is no excuse for what he did to me, I know, but at least he was honest about it. And hearing this, along with seeing and hearing how sorry he was for he had treated me all those years ago … well, how could I not forgive him?"

"Just like that?" I said, amazed at just how quickly she had managed to forgive him.

Sian shook her head, chuckled slightly and said, "Sorry, I should have specified, Max made it easier for me to _start_ to forgive him. I then told him that he was being transferred to Dragon Mort, which Ma had put in her final ever letter to me, before asking him whether he'd like to come home. Max readily agreed, and after the paperwork was signed I went back to collect him a few days later and the rest is history."

Sian then looked down at her gloves that she had so recently put back on and took them off again. She looked at them for a few moments, and then, before I could do or say anything to stop her, she let them go; I watched them get swept away in the strong current before I turned back to Sian, and just like when she had learned about what happened to her mother in the cave the night she died, she looked as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Sian," I said, amazed, "you didn't have to - "

"Oh yes I did, Kiara," she said, looking relieved still. "Those scars were like a fear to me, holding me back so much that I couldn't move on. They were partly why I wore the gloves - the other reason I wore them was because of my ice powers, which I still have, but thanks to Kopa the fractals to prove that I have ice powers are no longer on my hands. Anyway, you don't see me hiding the scars Umber gave me when I jumped in front of that centaur herd, do you?" She then lifted her head back slightly, so that I could just make out the horrible scars of the ropes that Umber had conjured and tried to kill her with not two years ago before she continued, "For too long I've let those scars on my hands control my life, Kiara, and the thing that made me get rid of my gloves was my acceptance of my brother's forgiveness. Now that I have that, I have no need of the gloves any more."

I saw Sian's eyes widen in amazement as she quickly came to the realisation of her epiphany as she spoke. When she had finished, I decided to keep quiet, allowing her to accept what she had just discovered. As the silence dragged on, I began to think about this great big mess we found ourselves in, which made me sigh heavily, and also caught Sian's attention.

"What's wrong, Kiara?"

"Just thinking."

"What about?"

"The war we're in, though I really wish we weren't involved in it at all."

"Who does?" Sian commented heavily. I gave a dry chuckle at that.

I then sighed again and said, "After all the things we've been through so far this year, I'm starting to wonder if anyone really cares about us any more. I mean, does anyone really care if we live or die at this point? I know this is hard to hear - "

"No, don't apologise," said Sian quickly, shaking her head. "I get why you feel that way, I really do. Because that's what war does, Kiara. It makes you start doubting your faith in humanity and whether or not there is any good left in this world. But there is, there always is. And remember this, Kiara: as long as there is one person out there who remembers you and is thinking and caring about you, then you're never alone. Never."

I was stunned by her words, for I had never thought of it that way before. I just had to ask, "How can you be so wise?"

To which Sian answered, "You know the woman who raised me, Kiara. Take from that what you will."

I laughed at that, not realising how much I had missed Sian's humour until now. But her knowledge bombs were not over just yet.

"Cherish each and every day like it's your last. After all, yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. And that is why it is called the present."

I nodded at her choice of words, amazed, yet again, by how right she was. But I stopped nodding, wondering where I had heard that saying before. And then it hit me -

"Did you use that saying from a movie?"

Sian blushed slightly, smiled guiltily and said, "You got me. It's from _Kung-fu Panda_ , but it's amazing how accurate those words are for this moment, isn't it?"

I nodded again. "It's a great movie," I said after a while, "but _Shark Tale_ 's good, too."

 _"Shark Tale?"_ said Sian, confused. "I don't - "

 _"Don't worry - "_ I sang, making Sian laughed as she clicked on, which made her sing too.

 _" - about a thing - "_

 _" - 'Cause every little thing is gonna be all right,"_ we finished together.

"But I still think _Kung-fu Panda_ 's awesome," said Sian, looking at me slyly, and, getting the hint, I sang with her: _"Everybody was Kung-fu fighting, Do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do."_

And that made us hold on to each other as we fell apart in a fit of giggles. As mine subsided, I looked at Sian and smiled at how happy and carefree she looked, a side to her that I had sorely missed, and a side to her that I never thought I would see again.

As Sian calmed down, she looked at me and saw me looking at her. "What?" she said. "Why do you look at me that way?"

I just shook my head and said, "I just never thought I would get to see you smile or laugh again, that's all. I've really missed you, Sian."

"Thanks, Kiara," Sian smiled. She then looked around dramatically, leaned in close to me and whispered, "I've missed me, too!"

I laughed at that, as we both put our arms around each other and said, "Squeeeeeeeeeeze!" I don't think either of us knew why we did that, but it made us feel good, so I did not bother to complain.

We let go of each other shortly after that, and after a short pause, Sian said, "I'm going back inside, it's starting to get a little cold." She got up and looked at me. "You coming?"

I shook my head. "I'm going to stay out here a little longer. You go on. I'll be in soon."

"All right. Don't stay out here too long, OK?" Sian smiled at me, then turned and walked back to the cottage, her long hair, no longer restrained by a hairbobble, was flying in the wind. As I watched Sian's retreating form, which was tall and proud once more, I knew that Sian was indeed back to her old self, and I could not be more happier to have her back.

I do not know how long I stayed out there for by Dokey's grave, thinking over everything that Sian and I had discussed, but a strong gust of wind finally made me get up and go back inside the cottage, and as I walked back, I could not help but think, yet again, how blessed I was to have such a friend as Sian Zoe Katrina Dawson in my life, which made me send up a silent prayer of thanks to the Oracle for saving her and bringing her back to us.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Sandwaves Cottage**

 **KIARA**

Sam and Ferdinand's cottage stood alone on top of a large hill overlooking the sea, its walls embedded with sea swirls and whitewashed. It was a lonely and beautiful place. Wherever I went inside the tiny cottage or its garden, I could hear the constant ebb and flow of the sea, like the breathing of some great, slumbering creature. I spent much of the next few days making excuses to escape the crowded cottage, craving the hill-top view of open sky and wide, empty sea, and the feel of cold, salty wind on my face.

The enormity of my decision not to race Zira to the wand still scared me. I could not remember, ever before, choosing not to act. I was full of doubts, doubts that Chrissie could not help voicing me when we were alone together.

"What if Ma wanted us to work out the symbol in time to get the wand?" "What if working out what the symbol meant made you 'worthy' to get the Hand?" "Kiara, if that really is the Stick of Fear, how the hell are we supposed to finish off She-You-Know?"

I had no answer: there were moments when I wondered whether it had been outright madness not to try to prevent Zira breaking open the tomb. I could not even explain satisfactorily why I had decided against it: every time I tried to reconstruct the arguments that had led to my decision, they sounded feebler to me.

The odd thing was that Sian's support, along with Chris', made me feel just as confused as Chrissie's doubts. Now forced to accept that the Stick of Fear was real, she maintained that it was an evil object, and that the way Zira had taken possession of it was repellent, not to be considered.

"You could never have done that, Kiara," she said again and again. "You couldn't have broken into my mother's grave."

"She's right, Kiara," Chris would always reassure me after Sian made that argument. "You're too good a person to have ever done that."

But the idea of Crighton's corpse frightened me much less than the possibility that I might have misunderstood the living Crighton's intentions. I felt that I was still groping in the dark; I had chosen my path but kept looking back, wondering whether I had misread the signs, whether I should not have taken the other way. From time to time, anger at Crighton crashed over me again, powerful as the waves that rolled on to the shore strongly nearby, anger that Crighton had not explained before she died.

"But _is_ she dead?" said Chrissie, three days after we had arrived at the cottage. I had been staring out over the wall that separated the cottage garden from the hill when Chris, Sian and Chrissie had found me; I wished that they had not, having no wish to join in with their argument.

"Yes, she is, Chrissie, _please_ don't start that again!"

"Look at the facts, Sian," said Chrissie, speaking across me as I continued to gaze at the horizon. "The silver lion. The sword. The eye Kiara saw in the mirror - "

"Which did not look spiritual or ghostly! Did it, Kiara?"

"No, it looked real enough," I said, without looking at her.

"But Kiara admits she could have imagined the eye!" Chris said quickly, before Chrissie could say anything. "Don't you, Kiara?"

"I could have," I said.

"But you don't think you did, do you?" asked Chrissie.

"No, I don't," I said.

"There you go!" said Chrissie quickly, before Sian and Chris could carry on. "If it wasn't Ma, explain how Dokey knew we were in the cellar, Sian?"

"I can't - but can you explain how Ma sent her to us if she's lying in a tomb at Dragon Mort? And besides that, Chrissie, we saw our mother's spirit the night she died and three days ago. So after all that, how on earth can you still be deluding yourself over the faintest possibility that our mother is still among the living?"

Chrissie did not have an answer for this, and nor did myself or Chris, and before I could say any more, a voice behind us said, "Kiara?"

Ferdinand had come out of the cottage, his long, black hair flying in the breeze.

"Kiara, Grimzhan would like to speak to you. She eez in ze smallest bedroom, she says she does not want to be over'eard."

His dislike of the faun sending him to deliver messages was clear; he looked irritable as he walked back round the house.

Grimzhan was waiting for us, as Ferdinand had said, in the tiniest of the cottage's five bedrooms, in which Sian and Chrissie slept by night. She had drawn the red cotton curtains against the bright, cloudy sky, which gave the room a fiery glow at odds with the rest of the airy, light cottage.

"I have reached my decision, Kiara Pride-Lander," said the faun, who was sitting cross-legged in a low chair, drumming its arms with her spindly fingers. "Though the fauns of Fauntrotts will consider it base treachery, I have decided to help you - "

"That's great!" I said, relief surging through me. "Grimzhan, thank you, we really - "

" - in return," said the faun firmly, "for payment."

Slightly taken aback, I hesitated.

"How much do you want? I have gold."

"Not gold," said Grimzhan. "I have gold."

Her blue eyes glittered; there were no whites to her eyes.

"I want the sword. The sword of Louisa Lion-Heart."

My spirits plummeted.

"You can't have that," I said. "I'm sorry."

"Then," said the faun softly, "we have a problem."

"We can give you something else," said Chrissie eagerly. "I'll bet the Outsiders have got loads of stuff, you can take your pick once we get into the vault."

She had said the wrong thing. Grimzhan flushed angrily.

"I am not a thief, girl! I am not trying to procure treasures, to which I have no right!"

"The sword's ours - "

"It is not," said the faun.

"We're Lion-Heart's, and it was Louisa Lion-Heart's - "

"And before it was Lion-Heart's, whose was it?" demanded the faun, sitting up straight."

"No one's," said Chrissie, "it was made for her, wasn't it?"

"No!" cried the faun, bristling with anger as she pointed a long finger at Chrissie. "Wizarding arrogance again! That sword was Ragoron the First's, taken from her by Louisa Lion-Heart! It is a lost treasure, a masterpiece of faunwork! It belongs with the fauns! The sword is the price of my hire, take it or leave it!"

Grimzhan glared at us. I glanced at the other three, then said, "We need to discuss this, Grimzhan, if that's all right? Could you give us a few minutes?"

The faun nodded, looking sour.

Downstairs in the empty sitting room, I walked to the fireplace, brow furrowed, trying to think what to do. Behind me, Chrissie said, "She's having a laugh. We can't let her have that sword."

"Is it true?" I asked Sian. "Was the sword stolen by Lion-Heart?"

"I don't know," she said hopelessly. "Wizarding history often skates over what the wizards have done to other magical races, but there's no account that I know of that says Lion-Heart stole the sword."

"It'll be one of those faun stories," said Chrissie, "about how the wizards are always trying to get one over on them. I suppose we should think ourselves lucky she hasn't asked for one of our wands."

"Fauns have good reasons to dislike wizards, Chrissie," said Sian. "They've been treated brutally in the past."

"Fauns aren't exactly fluffy little bunnies, though, are they?" said Chrissie. "They've killed plenty of us. They've fought dirty, too."

"But arguing with Grimzhan about whose race is most underhand and violent isn't going to make her more likely to help us, is it?"

There was a pause while we tried to think of a way round the problem. I looked out of the window at Dokey's grave. Lincoln was arranging sea lavender in a jam jar beside the headstone.

"OK," said Chrissie, and I turned back to face her, "how's this? We tell Grimzhan we need the sword until we get inside the vault, and then she can have it. There's a fake in there, isn't there? We switch them, and give her the fake."

"Chrissie, she'd know the difference better than we would!" said Sian. "She's the only one who realised there had been a swap!"

"Yeah, but we could scarper before she realises - "

She quailed beneath the look Sian was giving her.

"You know something, Chrissie," said Chris before Sian could say anything, his voice as disapproving as his expression, "I never thought that you would be one for taking a leaf out of Mona's book."

"How can you say that, Chris! I'm nothing like Mona!" said Chrissie, clearly affronted.

"Yeah, well you certainly didn't sound like it just now!"

"Chris is right," said Sian quietly. "Chrissie, what you just said is despicable. Ask her for help, then double-cross her? And you wonder why fauns don't like wizards, sister?"

Chrissie's cheeks burned red.

"All right, all right! It was the only thing I could think of! What's your solution, then?"

"We need to offer her something else, something just as valuable."

"Brilliant, I'll go and get one of our other ancient faun-made swords and you can gift-wrap it."

Silence fell between us again. I was sure that the faun would accept nothing but the sword, even if we had something as valuable to offer her. Yet the sword was our one, indisputable weapon against the Horcruxes.

I closed my eyes for a moment or two and listened to the rush of the sea. The idea that Lion-Heart might have stolen the sword was unpleasant to me; I had always been proud to be a Lion-Heart; Lion-Heart had been champion of Muggle-borns and Bright-Brains, the witch who had clashed with the pure-blood-loving Snake-Eyes …

"Maybe she's lying," I said, opening my eyes again. "Grimzhan. Maybe Lion-Heart didn't take the sword. How do we know the faun version of history's right?"

"Does it make a difference?" asked Sian.

"Changes how I feel about it," I said.

I took a deep breath.

"We'll tell her she can have the sword after she's helped us get into that vault - but we'll be careful to avoid telling her exactly _when_ she can have it."

A grin slowly spread across Chrissie's face. Chris and Sian, however, both looked alarmed.

"Kiara, we can't - "

"Surely there must be - "

"She can have it," I went on, "after we've used it on all of the Horcruxes. I'll make sure she gets it then."

"But that could be years!" said Sian.

"I know that, but _she_ needn't. I won't be lying … really."

I met her eyes with a mixture of defiance and shame. I remembered the words that had been engraved over the gateway to Mahali Kuhamisha: _For the Good of the Magical_. I pushed the idea away. What choice did we have?

"I don't like it," said Sian.

"Nor do I," said Chris.

"Me neither, much," I admitted.

"Well, I think it's genius," said Chrissie, standing up again. "Let's go and tell her."

Back in the smallest bedroom, I made the offer, careful to phrase it so as not to give any definite time for the handover of the sword. Both Chris and Sian were frowning at the floor while I was speaking; I felt irritated at them, afraid that they might give the game away. However, Grimzhan had eyes for nobody but myself.

"I have your word, Kiara Pride-Lander, that you will give me the sword of Lion-Heart if I help you?"

"Yes," I said.

"Then, shake," said the faun, holding out her hand.

I took it and shook. I wondered whether those blue eyes saw any misgivings in my own. Then Grimzhan relinquished me, clapped her hands together and said, "So. We begin!"

It was like planning to break into the Ministry all over again. We settled to work in the smallest bedroom, which was kept, according to Grimzhan's preference, in semi-darkness.

"I have visited the Outsider's vault only once," Grimzhan told us, "on the occasion I was told to place inside it the false sword. It is one of the most ancient chambers. The oldest wizarding families store their treasures at the deepest level, where the vaults are largest and best protected …"

We remained shut in the cupboard-like room for hours at a time. Slowly, the days stretched into weeks. There was problem after problem to overcome, not least of which was that our store of Polyjuice Potion was greatly depleted.

"There's really only enough left for one of us," said Sian, tilting the thick mud-like potion against the lamplight.

"That'll be enough," I said, as I examined Grimzhan's hand-drawn map of the deepest passageways.

The other inhabitants of Sandwaves Cottage could hardly fail to notice that something was going on now that Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I only emerged for mealtimes. Nobody asked questions, though I often felt Sam's eyes on the four of us at the end of the table, thoughtful, concerned.

The longer we spent together, the more I realised that I did not much like the faun. Grimzhan was unexpectedly bloodthirsty, laughed at the idea of pain in lesser creatures and seemed to relish the possibility that we might have to hurt other wizards to reach the Outsider's vault. I could tell that my distaste was shared by the other three, but we did not discuss it: we needed Grimzhan.

The faun only ate grudgingly with the rest of us. Even after her legs had mended, she continued to request trays of food in her room, like the still frail Wandwick, until Sam (following an angry outburst from Ferdinand) went upstairs to tell her that the arrangement could not continue. Thereafter, Grimzhan joined us at the overcrowded table, although she refused to eat the same food, insisting, instead, on lumps of raw meat, roots and various fungi.

I felt responsible: it was, after all, I who had insisted that the faun remain at Sandwaves Cottage so that I could question her; my fault that the whole Dawson family had been driven into hiding, that Sam, Tanya, Geri and Mr Dawson could no longer work.

"I'm sorry," I told Ferdinand, one blustery April evening as I helped him prepare dinner. "I never meant you to have to deal with all of this."

He had just set some knives to work, chopping up steaks for Grimzhan and Sam, who preferred her meat bloody ever since she had been attacked by Silverfur, which is why Ferdinand always ordered Sam to stay out of the kitchen during the times when he was cooking, which Ferdinand did not seem to mind, given all the complaining he did about the English cuisine. Besides, Ferdinand could cook just as good as any woman could, so there was nothing for me to complain about.

Anyhoo, while the knives sliced away behind him, his somewhat irritable expression softened.

"Kiara, you saved my bruzzer's life, I do not forget."

This was not, strictly speaking, true, but I decided against reminding him that Simon had never been in real danger.

"Anyway," Ferdinand went on, pointing his wand at a pot of sauce on the stove, which began to bubble at once, "Madame Wandwick leaves for Elizabeth's zis evening. Zat will make things easier. Ze faun," he scowled a little at the mention of her, "can move downstairs, and you, Chrissie and Dena can take zat room."

"We don't mind sleeping in the living room," I said, for I knew that Grimzhan would think poorly of having to sleep on the sofa; keeping Grimzhan happy was essential to our plans. "Don't worry about us." And when he tried to protest I went on, "We'll be off your hands soon, too, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I. We won't need to be here much longer."

"But what do you mean?" he said, frowning at me, his wand pointing at the casserole dish now suspended in mid-air. "Of course, you must not leave, you are safe 'ere!"

He looked rather like my father as he said it, and I was glad that the back door opened at that moment. Lincoln and Dena entered, their hair damp from the rain outside and their arms full of driftwood.

" … and tiny little ears," Lincoln was saying, "a bit like a hippo's, Mammy says, only purple and hairy. And if you want to call them you have to hum; they prefer a waltz, nothing too fast …"

Looking uncomfortable, Dena shrugged at me as she passed, following Lincoln into the combined dining and sitting room where Chris, Sian and Chrissie were laying the dinner table. Seizing the chance to escape Ferdinand's questions, I grabbed two jugs of pumpkin juice and followed them.

" … and if you ever want to come to our house I'll be able to show you the horn, Mammy wrote to me about it but I haven't seen it yet, because the Love Destroyers took me from the Dragon Mort Subs and I never got home for Christmas," Lincoln was saying, as he and Dena relaid the fire.

"Lincoln, we told you," Sian called over to him. "That horn exploded. It came from an Erumpent, not a Crumple-Horned Snorkack - "

"No, it was definitely a Snorkack horn," said Lincoln serenely. "Mammy told me. It will probably have reformed by now, they mend themselves, you know."

Sian shook her head and continued laying down forks as Sam appeared, leading Madam Wandwick down the stairs. The wandmaker still looked exceptionally frail, and she clung to Sam's arm as the latter supported her, carrying a large suitcase.

"I'm going to miss you, Madam Wandwick," said Lincoln, approaching the old woman.

"And I you, my dear boy," said Wandwick, rustling his hair. "You were an inexpressible comfort to me in that terrible place."

"So, _au revoir_ , Madam Wandwick," said Ferdinand, kissing her on both cheeks. "And I wonder whezzer you could oblige us by delivering a package to Sam's Great-Aunt Lizzie? Sam never returned 'er tiara."

"We don't have to do that, Ferdinand," said Sam before Wandwick could say anything.

"Why ever not?" said Ferdinand, confused.

"Because Great-Aunt Lizzie gave that tiara to Sian a few years back as a birthday or Christmas present," Sam explained.

Ferdinand looked round at Sian, who nodded. Satisfied, he turned back to Sam.

"Hey, Sian," Sam said, "you don't need that tiara right now, do you?"

"Not right now I don't," said Sian, "but when I do I'll let you know."

Sam nodded as Dena said, "What type of tiara is it?"

"Faunmade, I presume?" said Grimzhan, who had sidled into the room without me noticing.

"And paid for by wizards," said Sam quietly, and the faun shot her a look that was both furtive and challenging.

A strong wind gusted against the cottage windows as Sam and Wandwick set off into the night. The rest of us squeezed in around the table; elbow to elbow and with barely enough room to move, we started to eat. The fire crackled and popped in the grate beside us. Ferdinand, I noticed, was merely playing with his food; he glanced at the window every few minutes; however, Sam returned before we had finished our first course, her long hair tangled by the wind.

"Everything fine," she told Ferdinand. "Wandwick settled in, Uncle Matt, Simba and Nala send their love, as do Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max, Ben and Dave, and that goes to _all_ of you," she added as her gaze landed on Sian, who nodded gratefully at Sam, who then turned back to Ferdinand and continued, "Tanya and Geri are driving Lizzie up the wall, they're still operating an Owl Order business out of her back room. It cheered her, and the others, up to know that Sian is doing well. She was getting worried she'd never get the chance to insult her again."

"Ah, she eez _charmante_ , your aunt," said Ferdinand crossly, waving his wand and causing the dirty plates to rise and form a stack in mid-air. He caught them and marched out of the room.

I looked at Sian then, who did not seem fussed to hear that Elizabeth still wanted to insult her after all that she had been through. Noticing my look of concern, Sian smiled at me reassuringly and said, "I'm too used to her insulting me to care any more, Kiara. Don't worry about it."

And somehow, I knew that she was right. So I smiled back at her, as Lincoln said unexpectedly, "Mammy's made a tiara, you know. Well, more of a crown, really."

Chrissie caught my eye and grinned; I knew that she was remembering the ludicrous headdress we had seen on our visit to Xion.

"Yes, she's trying to recreate the Lost Diadem of Raven-Wings. She thinks she's identified most of the main elements now. Adding the Billywig wings really made a difference - "

There was a bang on the front door. Everyone's heads turned towards it. Ferdinand came running out of the kitchen, looking frightened; Sam jumped to her feet, her wand pointing at the door; Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I did the same. Silently, Grimzhan slipped beneath the table out of sight.

"Who is it?" Sam called.

"It is I, Timon Ronan Meers!" called a voice over the howling wind. I experienced a thrill of fear; what had happened? "I am a werewolf, married to Nana Todd, and you, the Secret Keeper of Sandwaves Cottage, told me the address and bade me come in an emergency!"

"Meers," muttered Sam, and she ran to the door and wrenched it open.

Meers fell over the threshold. He was white-faced, wrapped in a travelling cloak, his greying hair windswept. He straightened up, looked around the room, making sure of who was there, then cried aloud, "It's a boy! We've named him Tim, after Nan's father!"

Sian shrieked.

"Wha- ?" Todd - Todd has had the baby?"

"Yes, yes, she has had the baby!" Meers shouted. All around the table came cries of delight, sighs of relief: Sian, Chrissie and Sam all squealed, "Congratulations!" and Chris said, "Wow, you have a baby!" as if he had never heard of such a thing before.

"Yes - yes - a boy," said Meers again, who seemed dazed by his own happiness. He strode round the table and hugged me. I sat there, dazed, for not once in all the time I had known him had Meers hugged me. I do not know whether it is because of the fact that he used to be my teacher, but I did find it weird.

"You'll be godmother?" he said, as he released me.

"M-me?" I stammered.

"Yes, yes, of course - Nan quite agrees, no one better - "

"I - of course - I'd be honoured - "

I felt overwhelmed, astonished, delighted: now Ferdinand was hurrying back into the kitchen to fetch wine and Sam was persuading Meers to join us for a drink.

"I can't stay long, I must get back," said Meers, beaming around at all of us: he looked years younger than I had ever seen him. "Thank you, thank you, Ferdinand."

Ferdinand had soon filled all of our goblets; we stood and raised them high in a toast.

"To Timmy Ronan Meers," said Meers, "a great wizard in the making!"

"'Oo does 'e look like?" Ferdinand enquired.

"I think he looks like Nan, but she thinks he is like me. Not much hair. It looked black when he was born, but I swear it's turned violet in the hour since. Probably be ginger by the time I get back. Aberash says Todd's hair started changing colour the day that she was born." He drained his goblet. "Oh, go on then, just one more," he added, beaming, as Ferdinand made to fill it again.

The wind buffeted the little cottage and the fire leapt and crackled, and Ferdinand was soon opening another bottle of wine. Meers' news seemed to have taken us out of ourselves, removed us for a while from our state of siege: tidings of new life were exhilarating. Only the faun seemed untouched by the suddenly festive atmosphere, and after a while she slunk back to the bedroom she now occupied alone. I thought I was the only one who had noticed this, until I saw Sam's eyes following the faun up the stairs.

"No … no … I really must get back," said Meers at last, draining yet another goblet of wine. He got to his feet and pulled his travelling cloak back around himself. "Goodbye, goodbye - I'll try and bring some pictures in a few days' time - they'll all be so glad to know that I've seen you - "

He fastened his cloak and made his farewells, hugging the women and grasping hands with the men, then, still beaming, returned into the wild night.

"Godmother, Kiara!" said Sam, as we walked into the kitchen together, helping clear the table. "A real honour! Congratulations!"

As I set down the empty goblets I was carrying, Sam pulled the door behind her closed, shutting out the still voluble voices of the others, who were continuing to celebrate even in Meers' absence.

"I wanted a private word, actually, Kiara. It hasn't been easy to get an opportunity with the cottage this full of people."

Sam hesitated.

"Kiara, you're planning something with Grimzhan."

It was a statement, not a question, and I did not bother to deny it. I merely looked at Sam, waiting.

"I know fauns," said Sam. "I've worked for Fauntrotts ever since I left Dragon Mort. As far as there can be friendship between wizards and fauns, I have faun friends - or, at least, fauns I know well, and like." Again, Sam hesitated. "Kiara, what do you want from Grimzhan, and what have you promised her in return?"

"I can't tell you that," I said. "Sorry, Sam."

The kitchen door opened behind us; Ferdinand was trying to bring through more empty goblets.

"Wait," Sam told him. "Just a moment."

He backed out and she closed the door again.

"Then I have to say this," Sam went on. "If you have struck any kind of bargain with Grimzhan, and most particularly if that bargain involves treasure, you must be exceptionally careful. Faun notions of ownership, payment and repayment are not the same as human ones."

I felt a slight squirm of discomfort, as though a small snake had stirred inside me.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"We are talking about a different breed of being," said Sam. "Dealings between wizards and fauns have been fraught for centuries - but you'll know all that from History of Magic. There has been fault on both sides, I would never claim that wizards have been innocent. However, there is a belief among some fauns, and those at Fauntrotts are perhaps most prone to it, that wizards cannot be trusted in matters of gold and treasure, that they have no respect for faun ownership."

"I respect - " I began, but Sam shook her head.

"You don't understand, Kiara, nobody could understand unless they have lived with fauns. To a faun, the rightful and true master of any object is the maker, not the purchaser. All faunmade objects are, in faun eyes, rightfully theirs."

"But if it was bought - "

" - then they would consider it rented by the one who had paid the money. They have, however, great difficulty with the idea of faun-made objects passing from wizard to wizard. You saw Grimzhan's face when she learned about the tiara. She disapproves. I believe she thinks, as do the fiercest of her kind, that it ought to have been returned to the fauns once the original purchaser died. They consider our habit of keeping faun-made objects, passing them from wizard to wizard without further payment, little more than theft."

I had an ominous feeling now; I wondered whether Sam guessed more than she was letting on.

"All I am saying," said Sam, setting her hand on the door back into the sitting room, "is to be very careful what to promise fauns, Kiara. It would be less dangerous to break into Fauntrotts than to revenge on a promise to a faun."

"Right," I said, as Sam opened the door, "yeah. Thanks. I'll bear that in mind."

As I followed Sam back to the others, a wry thought came to me, born no doubt of the wine I had drunk. I seemed set on course to become a reckless godmother to Timmy Meers as my own mother was to me.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **Fauntrotts**

 **KIARA**

Our plans were made, our preparations complete; in the smallest bedroom a single long, coarse, red hair (plucked from the sweater Sian had been wearing at Malty Manor) lay curled in a small glass phial on the mantelpiece.

"And you'll be using her wand," I said, nodding towards the walnut wand, "so I reckon you'll be pretty convincing."

Sian looked frightened that the wand might sting or bite her as she picked it up.

"I hate this thing," she said in a low voice. "I really hate it. It feels all wrong, it doesn't work properly for me whenever I use it … it's like a bit of _her_."

I could not help but remember how Sian had dismissed my loathing of the blackthorn wand, insisting that I was imagining things when it did not work as well as my own, telling me to simply practice. I chose not to repeat her own advice to her, however; the eve of our attempted assault on Fauntrotts felt like the wrong moment to antagonise her. And for those of you who forgot, let me remind you that Sian had to keep her wand in her bag seeing as she could not use magic as it hurt her too much in her dying condition; she only said that she did not have it with her when the Snatchers caught us just in case one of them overheard her.

"It'll probably help you get in character, though," said Chrissie. "Think what that wand's done!"

"But that's my point!" said Sian. "This is the wand that tortured Nikita's parents, and who knows how many other people? This is the wand that killed Pumbaa!"

I had not thought of that: I looked down at the wand and was visited by a brutal urge to snap it, to slice it in half with Lion-Heart's sword, which was propped against the wall beside me.

"I know what you mean, Sian, in a way," said Chris, fiddling with Alice's old wand. "I mean, this wand's OK, but I sometimes wish Madam Wandwick could have made me another one too."

Madam Wandwick had sent Lincoln a new wand that morning. He was out on the back lawn at that moment, testing its capabilities in the late afternoon sun. Dena, who had lost her wand to the Snatchers, was watching rather gloomily.

I looked down at the hawthorn wand that had once belonged to Dani Malty. I had been surprised, but pleased, to discover that it worked for me at least as well as Sian's had done. Remembering what Wandwick had told us of the secret workings of wands, I thought I knew what Sian's problem was: she had not won the walnut wand's allegiance by taking it personally from Katalina.

The door of the bedroom opened and Grimzhan entered. I reached instinctively for the hilt of the sword and drew it close to me, but I regretted my action at once: I could tell that the faun had noticed. Seeking to gloss over the sticky moment I said, "We've just been checking the last-minute stuff, Grimzhan. We've told Sam and Ferdinand we're leaving tomorrow, and we've told them not to get up to see us off."

We had been firm on this point, because Sian would need to transform into Katalina before we left, and the less that Sam and Ferdinand knew or suspected about what we were about to do, the better. We had also explained that we would not be returning. As we had lost one of Mr Dawson's tents on the night that the Snatchers caught us, Sam had lent us another one. It was now packed inside the beaded bag, which, if you will remember, my dear readers, Chris had stuffed down his sock for Sian.

Though I would miss Sam, Ferdinand, Lincoln and Dena, not to mention the home comforts we had enjoyed over the last few weeks, I was looking forward to escaping the confinements of Sandwaves Cottage. I was tired of trying to make sure that we were not overheard, tired of being shut in the tiny, dark bedroom. Most of all, I longed to be rid of Grimzhan. However, precisely how and when we were to part from the faun without handing over Lion-Heart's sword remained a question to which I had no answer. It had been impossible to decide how we were going to do it, because the faun rarely left Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I alone together for more than five minutes at a time; "She could give your father lessons, Kiara," growled Chris, as the faun's long fingers kept appearing around the edges of door. With Sam's warning in mind, I could not help suspecting that Grimzhan was on the watch for possible skulduggery. Both Sian and Chris disapproved so heartily of the planned double-cross that I had given up attempting to pick their brains on how best to do it; Chrissie, on the rare occasion that we had been able to snatch a few Grimzhan-free moments, had come up with nothing better than, "We'll just have to wing it."

I slept badly that night. Lying awake in the early hours, I thought back to the way I had felt the night before we had infiltrated the Ministry of Magic and I remembered a determination, almost an excitement. Now I was experiencing jolts of anxiety, nagging doubts: I could not shake off the fear that it was all going to go wrong. I kept telling myself that our plan was good, that Grimzhan knew what we were facing, that we were well-prepared for all the difficulties we were likely to encounter; yet I still felt uneasy. Once or twice I heard Chrissie stir, and I was certain that she, too, was awake, but we were sharing the sitting room with Dena, so I did not speak.

It was a relief when six o'clock arrived and we could slip out of our sleeping bags, dress in the semi-darkness, then creep out into the garden, where we were to meet Chris, Sian and Grimzhan. The dawn was chilly, but there was little wind now that it was May. I looked up at the stars still glimmering palely in the dark sky and listened to the sea washing backwards and forwards over the beach below: I was going to miss the sound.

Small green shoots were forcing their way through the red earth of Dokey's grave now; in a year's time the mound would be covered in flowers. The white stone that bore the elf's name had already acquired a weathered look. I realised now that we could hardly have laid Dokey to rest in a more beautiful place, but I ached with sadness to think of leaving her behind. Looking down on the grave, I wondered yet again how the elf had known where to come to rescue us. MY fingers moved absent-mindedly to the little pouch still strung around my neck, through which I could feel the jagged mirror fragment in which I had been sure I had seen Crighton's eye. Then the sound of a sigh coming from Chrissie, who was stood next to me, made me look at her.

"What's up?" I asked Chrissie, who was biting her lip, looking anxious as she turned to me.

"I'm just thinking about what the Oracle told us, Kiara, for he did tell us to be prepared for today."

Not understanding what Chrissie was talking about I wracked my brain, thinking carefully. And then it hit me, the words the Oracle told us the night he saved Sian's life: _Be prepared for the first day of the fifth month_ … and I knew why Chrissie was worried, for today marked the first of May, and I was scared because I had got so caught up in planning to break into Fauntrotts with Grimzhan that I had completely forgotten about it. But I decided to put it out of my mind for the time being, for there were other important things we had to get through first.

"Put it out of your mind for the time being, Chrissie," I told her gently. "Let's get through Fauntrotts first, and worry about everything else later, OK?"

Chrissie nodded, as the sound of a door opening made me look round.

Katalina Outsider was striding across the lawn towards us, accompanied by Grimzhan and Chris, and I only knew it was Chris because I knew him so well. Sian had disguised him so that he had thick wavy hair, a short stubby brown beard, freckles splayed across his cheeks and short, snout-like nose, and he also had thick, heavy eyebrows.

As Sian walked, she was tucking the small beaded bag into the inside pocket of another set of the old robes we had taken from Warts House. Though I knew perfectly well that it was really Sian, I could not suppress a shiver of loathing. She was far taller than I was, her long, flaming red hair rippling down her back, her heavy lidded eyes disdainful as they rested upon me; but then she spoke, and I heard Sian through Katalina's low voice.

"She tasted _disgusting_ , worse than Gurdyroots! OK, Chrissie, come here so I can do you …"

"Right, but remember, I don't like the fringe too long - "

"Oh, for heaven's sake, this isn't about looking beautiful - "

"It's not that, it gets in the way! But I liked my nose a bit shorter, try and do it the way you did last time."

Sian sighed and set to work, muttering under her breath as she transformed various aspects of Chrissie's appearance. She and Chris were to be given fake identifications, and we were trusting to the malevolent aura cast by Katalina to protect them. Meanwhile, Grimzhan and I were to be concealed under the Invisibility Cloak.

"There," said Sian, "how does she look, Kiara?"

It was just possible to discern Chrissie under her disguise, but only, I thought, because I knew her so well. Chrissie's hair was now short, only up to her shoulders, and voluminous; she also had no freckles, a long nose and thin eyebrows.

"I can barely tell that either of them are Chris and Chrissie," I said. "Shall we go, then?"

All four of us glanced back at Sandwaves Cottage, lying dark and silent under the fading stars, then turned and began to walk, just beyond the boundary wall, where the Fidelius Charm stopped working and we would be able to Disapparate. Once past the gate, Grimzhan spoke.

"I should climb up now, Kiara Pride-Lander, I think?"

I bent down and the faun clambered on to my back, her hands linked in front of my throat. She was not heavy, but I disliked the feeling of the faun and the surprising strength with which she clung on. Sian pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of the beaded bag and threw it over both of us.

"Perfect," she said, bending down to check my feet. "I can't see a thing. Let's go."

I turned on the spot with Grimzhan on my shoulders, concentrating with all my might on the Witching Service, the inn that was the entrance to Brickabon Alley. The faun clung even tighter as we moved into the compressing darkness, and seconds later my feet found pavement and I opened my eyes on Queen Anne's Street. Seeing that it was a town, and that it was early morning, Southport had very few people and cars moving about in the early morning, and when we entered the girls' bathroom, we found that there was no one inside it, much to our relief.

Sian headed to the long, cracked tiled wall in between the mirrors and the cubicles, pulled out Katalina's wand (her own was in her beaded bag), tapped it twice and said, _"Witching Service, come to me. Reveal yourself on the tap of three."_ She tapped the wall again with her wand and a door appeared, behind which a set of steep stone steps, accompanied by flaming torches in brackets on either side, led down into the Witching Service.

The bar of the inn was nearly deserted. Dizra, the stooped and toothless landlady, was polishing glasses behind the bar counter; a couple of witches having a muttered conversation in the far corner glanced at Sian and drew back into the shadows.

"Madam Outsider," murmured Dizra, and as Sian passed she inclined her head subserviently.

Hearing Katalina's name, Sian turned to Dizra and gave her a look that could shoot daggers if necessary. Seeing this, Dizra gulped and lowered her head, continuing to polish the glasses faster with trembling hands. Sian smirked satisfactorily and turned her head regally to the doors at the far end.

"Nice one," I whispered in Sian's ear; if we kept this up, I thought, getting into the Outsider's vault would be only too easy.

"Thanks," Sian murmured back.

Sian put her hand on one of the doorknobs, turned it left and opened it. Chris, Chrissie, Grimzhan and I followed her into the ruins of Wandwick's old wand shop, and then out into the narrow cobbled street that was Brickabon Alley.

It was quiet, barely any time for the shops to open, and there was hardly any shoppers about. The crooked, cobbled street was much altered, now, from the bustling place I had visited before my fist term at Dragon Mort so many years before. More shops than ever were boarded-up, though several new establishments dedicated to the Dark Arts had been created since my last visit. My own face glared down at me from posters plastered over many windows, always captioned with the words _Undesirable Number One_.

A number of ragged people sat huddled in doorways. I heard them moaning to the few passers-by, pleading for gold, insisting that they were really wizards. One woman had a bloody bandage over her eye.

As we set off down the street, the beggars glimpsed Sian. They seemed to melt away before her, drawing hoods over their faces and fleeing as fast as they could. Sian watched them go, her eyes narrowed dangerously, until the woman with the bloodied bandage came staggering right across her path.

"My children!" she screamed, pointing at her. The woman's voice was cracked, high-pitched, she sounded distraught. "Where are my children? What has she done with them? You know, _you know_!"

Sian gave a shout of malevolent laughter. "How should I know what has become of your children? The spawn of Mudbloods do not concern me."

The woman gave a howl of rage and ran at Sian. Next second, she let out a cry of pain, clutching at her cheek, which was bleeding from a cut that had just been slashed across her cheek by Katalina's wand. I looked at Sian, who looked furious now.

"You dare come at me like that again," Sian hissed threateningly, "and I'll make sure that your children, considering that they are still alive, never see their Mudblood mother again! Is that clear?"

The woman glared at Sian before staggering back to the doorway. Looking around, I could see faces peering out of the windows on either side of the street, while a little knot of prosperous-looking passers-by gathered their robes about them and broke into fast runs, keen to vacate the area.

"Clever girl," said Sian tauntingly to the woman's back. Then, turning back to Chris and Chrissie, who looked shocked and a little scared by their sister's behaviour (not that I could blame them), and beckoned for them to follow her, which they did without a moment's hesitation, Grimzhan and I following.

As we walked, people were scurrying out of Sian's way, not wanting to be her next victim. It was horrible for me to see Sian hurting people like this, but I could not help but be pleased, if a little, at how well she was acting like Katalina. It seemed to me like nothing was going to slow us -

"Why, Madam Outsider!"

I whirled round and Grimzhan tightened her hold around my neck: a tall, thin witch with long, bushy grey hair and a long, sharp nose was striding towards us.

"It's Terrell," hissed the faun into my ear, but at that moment I could not think who Terrell was. Sian had drawn herself up to her fullest height and said, with as much contempt as she could muster, "And what do you want?"

Terrell stopped in her tracks, clearly affronted.

 _"She's another Love Destroyer!"_ breathed Grimzhan, and I sidled sideways to repeat the information into Sian's ear.

"I merely sought to greet you," said Terrell coolly, "but if my presence is not welcome …"

I recognised her voice now; Terrell was one of the Love Destroyers who had been summoned to Xion's house.

"No, no, not at all, Terrell," said Sian quickly, trying to cover up her mistake. "How are you?"

"Well, I guess I am surprised to see you out and about, Katalina."

"Really? Why?" asked Sian.

"Well," Terrell coughed, "I _heard_ that the inhabitants of Malty Manor were confined to the house after the … ah … _escape_."

My feeling of elation suddenly burst as I heard this snag, and I willed Sian to keep her head. If this was true, and Katalina was not supposed to be out in public -

"The Scarlet Lady forgives those who have served her most faithfully in the past," said Sian, in a magnificent imitation of Katalina's most contemptuous manner. "Perhaps your credit is not as good with her as mine is, Terrell."

Though the Love Destroyer looked offended, she also seemed less suspicious. She glanced back at the woman Sian had attacked, who was huddled in a doorway once more.

"I saw it staggering away from you. How did it offend you?"

"It does not matter, it will not do so again," said Sian coolly.

"Some of these Wandless can be troublesome," said Terrell. "While they do nothing but beg I have no objection, but one of them actually asked me to plead his case at the Ministry last week. _'I'm a wizard, ma'am, I'm a wizard, let me prove it to you!'_ " she said, in a deep impersonation. "As if I was going to give him my wand - but whose wand," said Terrell curiously, "are you using at the moment, Katalina? I heard that your own was - "

"I have my wand here," said Sian coldly, holding up Katalina's wand. "I don't know what rumours you have been listening to, Terrell, but you seem sadly misinformed."

Terrell seemed a little taken aback after that, and she turned instead to Chris and Chrissie.

"Who are your friends? I do not recognise them."

"This is Vladimir and Ingrid Bagheira," said Sian; we had decided that a couple of fictional travellers from overseas would be the safest cover for Chris and Chrissie to assume. "They are brother and sister and speak very little English, but they are in sympathy with the Scarlet Lady's aims. They have travelled here from Transylvania to see our new regime."

"Indeed. How do you do, Vladimir? Ingrid?"

"'Ow you?" said Chris, he and Chrissie holding out their hands.

Terrell extended two fingers and shook hands with Chris and Chrissie as though frightened of dirtying herself.

"So what brings you and your - ah - sympathetic friends to Brickabon Alley this early?" asked Terrell.

"I need to visit Fauntrotts," said Sian.

"Alas, I also," said Terrell. "Gold, filthy gold! We cannot live without it, yet I confess I deplore the necessity of consorting with our long-fingered friends."

I felt Grimzhan's clasped hands tighten momentarily around my neck.

"Shall we?" said Terrell, gesturing Sian forwards.

Sian had no choice but to fall into step beside her and head along the crooked, cobbled street towards the place where the great, tree-like building of Fauntrotts stood towering over the other little shops. Chris and Chrissie sloped along beside them, and Grimzhan and I followed.

A watchful Love Destroyer was the very last thing we needed, and the worst of it was, with Terrell marching at what she believed to be Katalina's side, there was no means for me to communicate with Chris, Sian or Chrissie. All too soon we arrived at the foot of the root steps leading up to the great bark doors. As Grimzhan had already warned us, the liveried fauns who usually flanked the entrance had been replaced by two wizards, both of whom were clutching long, thin golden rods.

"Ah, Probity Probes," sighed Terrell theatrically, "so crude - but effective!"

And she set off up the steps, nodding left and right to the wizards, who raised the golden rods and passed them up and down her body. The Probes, I knew, detected spells of concealment and hidden magical objects. Knowing that I had only seconds, I pointed Dani's wand at each of the guards in turn and murmured, _"Confundo,"_ twice. Unnoticed by Terrell, who was looking through the bark doors at the inner hall, each of the guards gave a little start as the spells hit them.

Sian's long red hair rippled behind her as she climbed the steps.

"One moment, Madam," said the guard, raising his Probe.

"But you've just done that!" said Sian, in Katalina's commanding, arrogant voice. Terrell looked round, eyebrows raised. The guard was confused. He stared down at the thin, golden Probe and then at his companion, who said in a slightly dazed voice, "Yeah, you've just checked them, Caius."

Sian swept forwards, Chris and Chrissie on either side of her, Grimzhan and I trotting invisibly behind them. I glanced back as we crossed the threshold: the wizards were both scratching their heads.

As I entered the bank, I remembered Grandmother Sarabi telling me years ago that anybody would be mad to steal from Fauntrotts, and never for an instant could I have dreamed that one day I would go there to steal something … But there was no turning back now, for we had to do this.

The long counter was manned by fauns sitting on high stools, serving the first customers of the day. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and Terrell headed towards an old faun who was examining a thick gold coin through an eyeglass. Sian allowed Terrell to step ahead of her on the pretext of explaining features of the hall to Chris and Chrissie.

The faun tossed the coin she was holding aside, said to nobody in particular, "Leprechaun," and then greeted Terrell, who passed over a tiny golden key, which was examined and given back to her.

Sian stepped forwards.

"Madam Outsider!" said the faun, evidently startled. "Dear me! How - how may I help you today?"

"I wish to enter my vault," said Sian.

The old faun seemed to recoil a little. I glanced around. Not only was Terrell hanging back, watching, but several other fauns had looked up from their work to stare at Sian.

"You have … identification?" asked the faun.

"Identification? I-I have never been asked for identification before!"

 _"They know!"_ whispered Grimzhan in my ear. _"They must have been warned there might be an impostor!"_

"Your wand will do, Madam," said the faun. She held out a slightly trembling hand, and in a dreadful blast of realisation I knew that the fauns of Fauntrotts were aware that Katalina's wand had been stolen.

I felt Grimzhan leaning towards my ear again, but before she could say anything, Sian had pointed Katalina's wand at the faun in front of her, her face a mask of fury. The faun dropped her hand, trembling from head to foot. No one in the hall spoke, no one moved. All eyes were fixed on Sian and the old faun, who was now eyeing Katalina's wand fearfully.

"Now, you listen here, faun," said Sian softly in a deadly voice that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up, "I do not have to answer to you. I am Katalina Outsider, and if I say I want to enter my vault, then I _will_ enter my vault! and not you, nor any of your worthless kind is going to stop me from doing that! Now, you will ask someone to take me to my vault at once, or," Sian pointed the wand directly in the faun's face, "I'll have to do something."

The fauns around us looked uneasy. The old faun that Sian was glaring at gulped and stammered, "I-I am s-s-sorry, M-Madam Outsider, but I-I have to f-f-follow - "

But the faun had no chance to finish, for Sian had screamed, _"Crucio!"_

The poor old faun screamed and writhed in pain, as the fauns around her ducked under their desks or else stayed where they were shocked, cowering. I glanced at Grimzhan, who was watching the scene tight-lipped, her entire body trembling with anger as her clasped hands clenched around my neck again.

Sian stopped torturing the faun, who slumped over her desk, shaking, her breathing heavy.

"Now that we understand each other, faun," said Sian contemptuously, "you are going to let me go down to my vault, or I will start to kill your little friends here one - by - one until you do."

She pointed her wand at each faun she could see as she spoke, who looked at each other in pure terror. I felt Grimzhan stiffen behind me as she whispered hurriedly in my ear, _"Act now, act now, the Imperius Curse!"_

I raised the hawthorn wand beneath the Cloak, pointed it at the old faun, whose breathing was slowly returning to normal as she straightened up shakily, and I whispered, for the first time in my life, _"Imperio!"_

A curious sensation shot down my arm, a feeling of tingling warmth that seemed to flow from my mind, down the sinews and veins connecting me to the wand and the curse it had just cast. The faun suddenly took Katalina's wand, examined it closely and then said, "Ah, you have had a new wand made, Madam Outsider!"

"What?" said Sian. "No, no, that's mine - "

"A new wand?" said Terrell, approaching the counter again; still the fauns all around were watching, but curiously now. "But how could you have done, which wandmaker did you use?"

I acted without thinking: pointing my wand at Terrell, I muttered, _"Imperio,"_ once more.

"Oh, yes, I see," said Terrell, looking down at Katalina's wand, "yes, very handsome. And is it working well? I always think wands require a little breaking in, don't you?"

Sian looked utterly bewildered, but to my enormous relief she accepted the bizarre turn of events without comment.

The old faun behind the counter clapped her hands and a younger faun appeared.

"I shall need the Clankers," she told the faun, who dashed away and returned a moment later with a leather bag that seemed to be full of jangling metal, which she handed to her senior. "Good, good! So, if you will follow me, Madam Outsider," said the old faun, hopping down off her stool and vanishing from sight, "I shall take you to your vault."

She appeared around the end of the counter, jogging happily towards us, the contents of the leather bag still jingling. Terrell was standing quite still with her mouth hanging open. Chris and Chrissie were both looking at each other, clearly confused by what was going on.

"Wait - Borzon!"

Another faun came scurrying around the counter.

"We have instructions," she said, with a curtsey to Sian, "forgive me, Madam Outsider, but there have been special orders regarding the vault of Outsider."

She whispered urgently in Borzon's ear, but the Imperiused faun shook her off.

"I am aware of the instructions. Madam Outsider wishes to visit her vault … very old family … old clients … this way, please …"

And, still clanking, she hurried towards one of the many doors leading off the hall. I looked back at Terrell, who was still rooted to the spot looking abnormally vacant, and I made my decision: with a flick of my wand I made Terrell come with us, walking meekly in our wake as we reached the door and passed into the rough stone passageway beyond, which was lit with flaming torches on the right, and large, heavy wooden doors on the left.

"We're in trouble, they suspect," I said, as the door slammed behind us and I pulled off the Invisibility Cloak. Grimzhan jumped down from my shoulders; neither Terrell nor Borzon showed the slightest surprise of having me, Kiara Pride-Lander, in their midst. "They're Imperiused," I added, in response to Chris, Sian and Chrissie's confused queries about Terrell and Borzon, who were both now standing there looking blank. "I don't think I did it strongly enough, I don't know …"

And another memory darted through my mind, of the real Katalina Outsider shrieking at me when I had first tried to use an Unforgivable Curse: _"You need to mean them, Pride-Lander!"_

"What do we do?" asked Chrissie. "Shall we get out now, while we can?"

"If we can," said Sian, looking back towards the door into the main hall, beyond which who knew what was happening.

I then saw Sian look down at her hands as though disgusted with herself, and then she said in a tone that was full of remorse and self-loathing, "I can't believe what I just did back there … not just attacking one of my own kind, but a faun, too!"

"You did what you had to do to convince everyone that you're Katalina Outsider, Sian," said Chris comfortingly. "What else could you have done?"

"I know, but to attack other wizards? Other fauns?" Sian cried despairingly. "That's not me! I'm the girl who defended the centaurs two years ago against Umber and have the marks around my neck to prove it, for crying out loud! And now … what I just did back there …"

Sian could say no more, as she suddenly ran to the nearest torch bracket and emptied the contents of her stomach next to it. When she had finished, she wiped her mouth on the back of her sleeve, took out her small beaded bag, opened it up, pointed Katalina's wand in it and said, _"Accio wand."_ Sian's wand came shooting out of it, which she caught. She then put Katalina's wand in it, then cleaned up her vomit with a simple wave of her wand. When she turned to face us, I was startled to see that there were tears in her eyes as she looked at Grimzhan.

"Grimzhan, I-I'm so sorry … I never m-meant to - "

"I understand, do not apologise," said Grimzhan, studying Sian curiously.

I went up to Sian then, put my hand on her shoulder and said, "Sian, you have every right to hate yourself right now, but you have to put that aside for the time being, for we haven't got a lot of time here. So please, please will you put your self-loathing aside until we get out of here?"

Sian dried her eyes and nodded. I nodded at her, squeezed her shoulder for a second and then turned to Grimzhan.

"We've come this far," I told her, "I say we go on."

"Good!" said Grimzhan. "So, we need Borzon to open the doors, I no longer have the authority. But there will be no need to take the witch with us."

I pointed my wand at Terrell.

 _"Imperio!"_

The witch turned and squeezed into a crack in the wall.

"What are you making her do?"

"Hide," I said, as I pointed my wand at Borzon, who set off at once down the long narrow passage, Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Grimzhan and I following her.

We walked for a long time, our shadows flickering on the walls by the firelight. Every few minutes, I kept looking back, just in case someone was going to jump out from one of the doors and come at us. We might as well have left enormous footprints behind us; the more I thought about it, the more foolish it seemed to have disguised Sian as Katalina, to have brought along Katalina's wand, when the Love Destroyers knew who had stolen it -

"Stop!" called Grimzhan suddenly, and we all halted. I looked at Grimzhan, who was pointing to the door directly in front of her.

"Get Borzon to press her hand to the door!" Grimzhan ordered, and I turned my wand on Borzon. The faun obeyed, pressing her hand to the wood, which opened at once, and the six of us went inside, into the labyrinth of passages where the vaults were.

The moment the door closed behind us, the ground started to shake, and a low rumbling noise was growing louder and louder. We all held on to each other, except for Borzon, who felt to the ground. Grimzhan helped her up as I looked at Sian, who looked just as scared and confused as I felt: I had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was, I knew that it was not good …

The grumbling grew louder and louder as chips of rock and stone wall crumbled around us. Then I heard Sian gasp and, turning to look what she was gasping at, I could see what had shocked her, for a long crack was spreading across the ground, heading our way.

"RUN!" I yelled, turning my wand on Borzon again, who started running ahead of us, Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Grimzhan and I following her along passages and down staircases, but no matter where we went, the crack still followed us …

I knew we were in trouble when I saw that the crack had got under my feet, and the harder I ran, the softer the ground became, and before I knew what was happening, the six of us were falling, screaming, tumbling through the air, as the ground below us split before we could fall through it, and the ground kept opening up through each passage we fell through, and looking back I could see that the ground had resealed itself as soon as we had fallen through it. And then, out of nowhere, a rush of water rose up to meet us. I heard Grimzhan shout, "No!" but there was no stopping it: we fell right through it. Water filled my eyes and mouth: I could not see or breathe: then, with the water flying out of my eyes, I saw a number of rough, jagged rocks below. My mind froze, panicking, fearing that this was the end, when I heard Sian shriek something unintelligible and I felt myself glide towards the ground as though weightless, landing painlessly on the rocky passage floor.

"C-Cushioning Charm," Sian spluttered, as Chris pulled her to her feet: but to my horror I saw that she was no longer Katalina; instead she stood there in robes that seemed to fit her surprisingly well, sopping wet and completely herself; Chris was light-brunette and beardless again, and Chrissie's hair was dark brown and she was back to herself again. The three of them were realising it as they looked at each other, feeling their own faces.

"The Thief's Downfall!" said Grimzhan, clambering to her feet and looking up at the water that was hanging in mid-air, which I knew, now, had been more than water. "It washes away all enchantment, all magical concealment! They know there are impostors in Fauntrotts, they have set off defences against us!"

I saw Sian checking that she still had the beaded bag, and I hurriedly thrust my own hand under my jacket to make sure I had not lost the Invisibility Cloak. Then I turned to see Borzon shaking her head in bewilderment: the Thief's Downfall seemed to have lifted the Imperius Curse.

"We need her," said Grimzhan, "we cannot enter the vault without a Fauntrotts faun. And we need the Clankers!"

 _"Imperio!"_ I said again; my voice echoed through the stone passages as I felt again the sense of heady control that flowed from my brain to my wand. Borzon submitted once more to my will, her befuddled expression changing to one of polite indifference, as Chrissie hurried to pick up the leather bag of metal tools.

"Kiara, I think I can hear more people coming!" said Sian, and she pointed her wand at the end of the passage and cried, _"Protego!"_ We saw the end of the passage become slightly distorted as the Shield Charm hit it.

"Good thinking," I said, "lead the way, Grimzhan!"

"How are we going to get out again?" Chrissie asked, as we hurried on foot into the darkness after the faun, Borzon panting in our wake like an old dog.

"Let's worry about that when we have to," I said. I was trying to listen: I thought I could hear something clanking and moving around nearby.

"Grimzhan, how much further?"

"Not far, Kiara Pride-Lander, not far …"

And we turned a corner and saw the thing for which I had been prepared, but which still brought all of us to a halt.

A gigantic dragon was tethered to the ground in front of us, barring access to four or five of the deepest vaults in the place. The beast's scales had turned pale and flaky during its incarceration under the ground; its eyes were milky pink: both rear legs bore heavy cuffs from which chains led to enormous pegs driven deep into the rocky floor. Its great, spiked wings, folded close to its body, could have filled the chamber if it spread them, and when it turned its ugly head towards us, it roared with a noise that made the rock tremble, opened its mouth and spat a jet of fire that sent us running back up the passageway.

"It is partially blind," panted Grimzhan, "but even more savage for that. However, we have the means to control it. It has learned what to expect when the Clankers come. Give them to me."

Chrissie passed the bag to Grimzhan and the faun pulled out a number of small metal instruments that when shaken made a loud, ringing noise like miniature hammers on anvils. Grimzhan handed them out: Borzon accepted hers meekly.

"You know what to do," Grimzhan told Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I. "It will expect pain when it hears the noise: it will retreat, and Borzon must place her palm upon the door of the vault."

We advanced round the corner again, shaking the Clankers and the noise echoed off the rocky walls, grossly magnified, so that the inside of my skull seemed to vibrate with the din. The dragon let out another hoarse roar, then retreated. I could see it trembling, and as we drew nearer I saw the scars made by various slashes across its face, and I guessed that it had been taught to fear hot swords when it heard the sound of the Clankers.

"Make her press her hand to the door!" Grimzhan urged me, and I turned my wand again upon Borzon. The old faun obeyed, pressing her palm to the wood, and the door of the vault melted away to reveal a cave-like opening crammed from floor to ceiling with golden coins and goblets, silver armour, the skins of strange creatures, some with long spines, others with drooping wings, potions in jewelled flasks, and a skull still wearing a crown.

"Search, fast!" I said, as we all hurried inside the vault.

I had described Badger-Stripes' cup to Chris, Sian and Chrissie, but if it was the other, unknown Horcrux that resided in this vault, I did not know what it looked like. I barely had time to glance around, however, before there was a muffled clunk from behind us: the door had reappeared, sealing us inside the vault, and we were plunged into total darkness.

"No matter, Borzon will be able to release us!" said Grimzhan, as Chris groped for my hand in the darkness and Chrissie gave a little shriek of surprise. "Light your wands, can't you? And hurry, we have very little time!"

 _"Lumos!"_

I shone my lit wand around the vault: its beam fell upon glittering jewels, I saw the fake sword of Lion-Heart lying on a high shelf amongst a jumble of coins. Chris, Sian and Chrissie had lit their wands too, and were now examining the pile of objects surrounding us.

"Kiara, could this be - ? Aargh!"

Sian screamed in pain and I turned my wand on her in time to see a jewelled goblet tumbling from her grip, but as it fell it split, and became a shower of goblets, so that a second later, with a great clatter, the floor was covered in identical cups rolling in every direction, the original impossible to discern amongst them.

"It burned me!" moaned Sian, sucking her blistered fingers.

"They have added Geminio and Flangrante Curses!" said Grimzhan. "Everything you touch will burn and multiply, but the copies are worthless - and if you continue to handle the treasure, you will eventually be crushed to death by the weight of expanding gold!"

"OK, don't touch anything!" I said desperately, but even as I said it, Chrissie accidentally nudged one of the fallen goblets with her foot, and twenty more exploded into being while Chrissie hopped on the spot, part of her shoe burned away by contact with the hot metal.

"Stand still, don't move," said Sian, clutching Chrissie.

"Just look around!" I said. "Remember, the cup's small and gold, it's got a badger engraved on it, two handles - otherwise, see if you can spot Raven-Wings' symbol anywhere, the raven - "

We directed our wands into every nook and crevice, turning cautiously on the spot. It was impossible not to brush up against anything; I sent a great cascade of fake Galleons on to the ground where they joined the goblets, and now there was scarcely no room to place our feet, and the glowing gold blazed with heat, so that the vault felt like a furnace. My wandlight passed over shields and faun-made helmets set on shelves rising to the ceiling. Higher and higher I raised the beam, until suddenly it found an object that made my heart skip and my hand tremble.

 _"It's there, it's up there!"_

Chris, Sian and Chrissie pointed their wands at it too, so that the golden cup sparkled in a four-way spotlight: the cup that had belonged to Bartholomew Badger-Stripes, which had passed into the possession of Harta Smith, from whom it had been stolen by Dizra Maliay.

"And how are we going to get up there without touching anything?" asked Chris.

 _"Accio cup!"_ cried Sian, who had evidently forgotten, in her desperation, what Grimzhan had told us during our planning sessions.

"No use, no use!" snarled the faun.

"Then what do we do?" I said, glaring at the faun. "If you want the sword, Grimzhan, then you'll have to help us more than - wait! Can I touch stuff with the sword? Sian, give it here!"

Sian opened the beaded bag again, rummaged for a few seconds, then removed the shining sword. I seized it by its rubied hilt and touched the tip of the blade to a silver flagon nearby, which did not multiply.

"If I can just poke the sword through a handle - but how am I going to get up there?"

The shelf on which the cup reposed was out of reach for any of us, even Chris, who was the tallest. The heat from the enchanted treasure rose in waves, and sweat ran down my face and back as I struggled to think of a way up to the cup; and then I heard the dragon roar on the other side of the vault door, and the sound of clanking growing louder and louder.

We were truly trapped now: there was no way out except through the door, and a horde of fauns seemed to be approaching on the other side. I looked at Chris, Sian and Chrissie and saw terror in their faces.

"Sian," I said, as the clanking grew louder, "I've got to get up there, we've got to get rid of it - "

She raised her wand, pointed it at me and whispered, _"Levicorpus!"_

Hoisted into the air by my ankle, I hit a suit of armour and replicas burst out of it like white-hot bodies, filling the cramped space. With screams of pain Chris, Sian, Chrissie and the two fauns were knocked aside into other objects which also began to replicate. Half buried in a rising tide of red-hot treasure, they struggled and yelled as I thrust the sword through the handle of Badger-Stripes' cup, hooking it on to the blade.

 _"Impervius!"_ screeched Sian, in an attempt to protect herself, Chris, Chrissie and the fauns from the burning metal.

Then the worst scream yet made me look down: Chris, Sian and Chrissie were waist-deep in treasure, struggling to keep Borzon from slipping beneath the rising tide, but Grimzhan had sunk out of sight and nothing but the tips of a few long fingers were left in view.

I seized Grimzhan's fingers and pulled. The blistered faun emerged by degrees, howling.

 _"Liberacorpus!"_ I yelled, and with a crash Grimzhan and I landed on the surface of the swelling treasure, and the sword flew out of my hand.

"Get it!" I yelled, fighting the pain of the hot metal on my skin, as Grimzhan clambered on to my shoulders again, determined to avoid the swelling mass of red-hot objects. Where's the sword? It had the cup on it!"

The clanking on the other side of the door was growing deafening - it was too late -

"There!"

It was Grimzhan who had seen it and Grimzhan who lunged, and in that instant I knew that the faun had never expected us to keep our word. One hand holding tightly to a fistful of my hair to make sure I did not fall into the heaving sea of burning gold, Grimzhan seized the hilt of the sword and swung it high out of my reach.

The tiny golden cup, skewered by the handle on the sword's blade, was flung into the air. The faun still astride me, I dived and caught it, and although I could feel it scalding my flesh I did not relinquish it, even as countless Badger-Stripes cups burst from my fist, raining down upon me as the entrance of the vault opened up again and I found myself sliding uncontrollably on an expanding avalanche of fiery gold and silver that bore myself, Chris, Sian and Chrissie into the outer chamber.

Hardly aware of the pain from the burns covering my body, and still borne along the swell of replicating treasure, I shoved the cup into my pocket and reached up to retrieve the sword, but Grimzhan was gone. Sliding from my shoulders the moment she could, she had sprinted for cover amongst the surrounding fauns, brandishing the sword and crying, "Thieves! Thieves! Help! Thieves!" She vanished into the midst of the advancing crowd, all of whom were holding daggers and who accepted her without question.

Slipping on the hot metal, I struggled to my feet and knew that the only way out was through.

 _"Stupefy!"_ I bellowed, and Chris, Sian and Chrissie joined in: jets of red light flew into the crowd of fauns and some toppled over, but others advanced, and I saw several wizard guards running round the corner.

The tethered dragon let out a roar, and a gush of flame flew over the fauns: the wizards fled, doubled-up, back the way they had come, and inspiration, or madness, came to me. Pointing my wand at the thick cuffs chaining the beast to the floor I yelled, _"Relashio!"_

The cuffs broke open with loud bangs.

"This way!" I yelled, and still shooting Stunning Spells at the advancing fauns I sprinted towards the blind dragon.

"Kiara - Kiara - what are you doing?" cried Sian.

"Get up, climb up, come on - "

The dragon had not yet realised that it was free: my foot found the crook of its hind leg and I pulled myself up on to its back. The scales were hard as steel: it did not even seem to feel me. I stretched out an arm; Chris hoisted himself up, then he helped Sian up and Chrissie climbed on behind us, and a second later the dragon became aware that it was untethered.

With a roar it reared: I dug in my knees, clutching as tightly as I could to the jagged scales as the wings opened, knocking the shrieking fauns aside like skittles, and it soared into the air. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I, flat on its back, scraped against the passage ceiling above us as it dived towards said passage, while the pursuing fauns hurled daggers that glanced off its flanks.

"We'll never get out, it's too big!" Sian screamed, but the dragon opened its mouth and belched flame again, blasting the passage above us, whose floors and ceiling cracked and crumbled. By sheer force the dragon clawed and fought its way through that passage and all the passages above it. My eyes were tight shut against the heat and dust: deafened by the crashing of rock and the dragon's roars, I could only cling to its back, expecting to be shaken off at any moment; then I heard Sian yelling, _"Defedio!"_

She was helping the dragon to destroy all the passages above us, carving out the vast ceilings above us as it struggled upwards on to freedom, away from the shrieking and clanging fauns. Chris, Chrissie and I copied her, blasting the passages apart with more gouging spells. We passed the large underground bubble, and the great crawling, snarling beast seemed to sense freedom and space ahead of it, and behind us the tunnels below were being destroyed by the dragon's thrashing, spiked tail, of great lumps of rock, gigantic, fractured stalactites, and the clanking of the fauns were growing fainter and fainter, while ahead, the dragon's fire kept our progress clear -

And then at last, by the combined force of our spells and the dragon's brute strength, we had blasted our way out of the labyrinth of tunnels, through the passage leading to them and out into the tree hallway. Fauns and wizards shrieked and ran for cover, and finally the dragon had room to stretch its wings; turning its horned head upwards, as though sensing the fresh air that was high, high above us, and it took off, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I still clinging to its back, it stretched as high as it could go, beginning to flap its wings as it rose higher and higher, breaking through the canopy, parts of twigs and leaves becoming entangled in our hair. Once out of Fauntrotts, the beast rose to the ceiling of Brickabon Alley, and Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I helped it blast its way through the ceiling to the fresh air beyond, ducking as large chunks of rubble rained down on us. And then, with a final blast of fire from the dragon, it broke through the pavement with us still holding on to its back, as it soared into the sky.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **The Final Hiding Place**

 **KIARA**

There was no means of steering; the dragon could not see where it was going, and I knew that if it turned sharply or rolled over in mid-air that we would find it impossible to cling on to its broad back. Nevertheless, as we climbed higher and higher, Southport unfurling below us like a grey and green map, my overwhelming feeling was of gratitude for an escape that had seemed impossible. Crouching low over the beast's neck, I clung tight to the metallic scales, and the cool breeze was soothing on my burned and blistered skin, the dragon's wings beating the air like the sails of a windmill. Behind me, whether from delight or fear I could not tell, Chris was laughing loudly, Sian seemed to be sobbing, and Chrissie kept swearing at the top of her voice.

After five minutes or so, I lost some of my immediate dread that the dragon was going to throw us off, for it seemed intent on nothing but getting as far away from its underground prison as possible, but the question of how and when we were going to dismount remained rather frightening. I had no idea how long dragons could fly without landing, nor how this particular dragon, which could barely see, would locate a good place to put down. I glanced around constantly, imaging that I could feel my scar prickling …

How long would it be before Zira knew that we had broken into the Outsider's vault? How soon would the fauns of Fauntrotts notify Katalina? How quickly would they realise what had been taken? And then, when they discovered that the golden cup was missing? Zira would know, at last, that we were hunting Horcruxes …

The dragon seemed to crave colder and fresher air: it climbed steadily until we were flying through wisps of chilly cloud and I could no longer make out the little coloured dots which were cars pouring in and out of the town. On and on we flew, over countryside parcelled out in patches of green and brown, over roads and rivers winding through the landscape like strips of matt and glossy ribbon.

"What do you reckon it's looking for?" Chrissie yelled, as we flew further and further north.

"No idea!" I bellowed back. My hands were numb with cold but I did not dare attempt to shift my grip. I had been wondering for some time what we would do if we saw the coast sail beneath us, if the dragon headed for open sea: I was cold and numb, not to mention desperately hungry and thirsty. When, I wondered, had the beast itself last eaten? Surely it would need sustenance before long? And what if, at that point, it realised it had four highly edible humans on its back?

The sun slipped lower in the sky, which was turning indigo, and still the dragon flew; cities and towns gliding out of sight beneath us, its enormous shadow sliding over the earth like a great, dark cloud. Every part of me ached with the effort of holding on to the dragon's back.

"Hey, is it my imagination," shouted Chris, and to me it seemed like an age since I had last heard him speak, "or are we losing height?"

I looked down and saw the deep-green mountains and lakes, coppery in the sunset. The landscape seemed to grow larger and more detailed as I squinted over the side of the dragon and I wondered whether it had divined the presence of fresh water by the flashes of reflected sunlight.

Lower and lower the dragon flew, in great, spiralling circles, honing in, it seemed, upon one of the smaller lakes.

"I say we jump when it gets low enough!" I called back to the others. "Straight into the water before it realises we're here!"

They agreed, Chrissie a little faintly: and now I could see the dragon's wide, yellow underbelly rippling in the surface of the water.

"NOW!"

I slithered over the side of the dragon and plummeted, feet first, towards the surface of the lake; the drop was greater than I had estimated and I hit the water hard, plunging like a stone into a freezing, green, reed-filled world. I kicked towards the surface and emerged, panting, to see enormous ripples emanating in circles from the places where Chris, Sian and Chrissie had fallen. The dragon did not seem to have noticed anything: it was already fifty feet away, swooping low over the lake to scoop up water in its scarred snout. As Chris, Sian and Chrissie emerged, spluttering and gasping from the depths of the lake, the dragon flew on, its wings beating hard, and landed at last on a distant bank.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I struck for the opposite shore. The lake did not seem to be deep: soon it was more a question of fighting our way through reeds and mud than swimming, and finally we flopped, sodden, panting and exhausted, on to slippery grass.

Sian collapsed, coughing and shuddering. Seeing this, Chris and Chrissie crawled over to her, making sure that she was all right. Though I could have happily lain down and slept, I staggered to my feet, drew out my wand and started casting the usual protective spells around us.

When I had finished, I joined the others. It was the first time that I had seen them properly since escaping from the vault. The three of them had angry red burns all over their faces and arms, and their clothing was singed away in places. They were wincing as they dabbed essence of dittany on to their many injuries. Sian handed me the bottle, then pulled out four bottles of pumpkin juice she had brought from Sandwaves Cottage and clean, dry robes for all of us. We changed (and I tried very hard not to notices how Chris' muscles flexed as I did) and then gulped down the juice.

"Well, on the upside," said Chrissie finally, who was sitting watching the skin on her hands regrow, "we got the Horcrux. On the downside - "

" - no sword," I said through gritted teeth, as I dripped dittany through the singed hole in my jeans on to the angry burn beneath.

"No sword," repeated Chrissie. "That double-crossing little scab …"

I pulled the Horcrux from the pocket of the wet jacket I had just taken off and set it down on the grass in front of us. Glinting in the sun, it drew our eyes as we swigged our bottles of juice.

"At least we can't wear it this time, that'd look a bit weird hanging round our necks," said Chrissie, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

Chris looked across the lake to the far side, where the dragon was still drinking.

"What'll happen to it, d'you think?" he asked. "Will it be all right?"

"Chris, don't turn into Mina," said Sian, rolling her eyes.

Chris looked at her, confused. "Mina? What's - "

"Sian's got a point, Chris. I mean, you did sound like Mina just now," said Chrissie. "It's a dragon, bro, it can look after itself. It's us we need to worry about."

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, I don't know how to break this to you," said Chrissie, "but I think they _might_ have noticed we broke into Fauntrotts."

The four of us started to laugh, and once started, it was difficult to stop. My ribs ached, I felt light-headed with hunger, but I lay back on the grass beneath the reddening sky and laughed until my throat was raw.

"What are we going to do, though?" said Sian finally, hiccoughing herself back to seriousness. "She'll know, won't she? She-You-Know will know we know about her Horcruxes!"

"Maybe they'll be too scared to tell her?" said Chrissie hopefully. "Maybe they'll cover up - "

The sky, the smell of lake water, the sound of Chrissie's voice were extinguished: pain cleaved my head like a sword stroke. I was standing in a dimly lit room, and a semi-circle of wizards faced me, and on the floor at my feet knelt a small, quaking figure.

"What did you say to me?" Her voice was high and cold, but fury and fear burned inside her. The one thing she had dreaded - but it could not be true, she could not see how …

The faun was trembling, unable to meet the red eyes high above hers.

"Say it again!" murmured Zira. _"Say it again!"_

"M-my Lady," stammered the faun, its blue eyes wide with terror, "m-my Lady … we t-tried t-to st-stop them … impostors, my Lady … broke - broke into the - into the Outsider's v-vault …"

"Impostors? What impostors? I thought Fauntrotts had ways of revealing impostors? Who were they?"

"It was … it was … the P-Pride-L-Lander g-girl and t-three accomplices …"

 _"And they took?"_ she said, her voice rising, a terrible fear gripping her. "Tell me! _What did they take?_ "

"A … a s-small golden c-cup, m-my Lady …"

A scream of rage, of denial, left her as if it were a stranger's: she was crazed, frenzied, it could not be true, it was impossible, nobody had ever known: how was it possible that the girl could have discovered her secret?

The Stick of Fear slashed through the air and green light erupted through the room, the kneeling faun rolled over, dead, the watching wizards scattered before her, terrified: Katalina and Latchna Malty threw others behind them in their race for the door, and again and again her wand fell, and those who were left were slain, all of them, for brining her this news, for hearing about the golden cup -

Alone amongst the dead, she strolled up and down, and they passed before her in vision: her treasures, her safeguards, her anchors to immortality - the diary was destroyed and the cup was stolen; what if, _what if_ , the girl knew about the others? Could she know, had she already acted, had she traced more of them? Was Crighton at the root of this? Crighton, who had always suspected her, Crighton, dead on her orders, Crighton, whose wand was hers now, yet who reached out from the ignominy of death through the girl, _the girl_ -

But surely if the girl had destroyed any of her treasures, she, Lady Zira, would have known, would have felt it? She, the greatest witch of them all, she, the most powerful, she, the killer of Crighton and of how many other worthless, nameless people: how could Lady Zira have known if she, herself, most important and precious, had been attacked, mutilated?

True, she had not felt it when the diary had been destroyed, but she had thought that was because she had no body to feel, being less than ghost … no, surely, the rest were safe … the other Horcruxes must be intact …

But she must know, she must be sure … she paced the room, kicking aside the faun's corpse as she passed, and the pictures blurred and burned in her boiling brain: the lake, the shack, and Dragon Mort -

A modicum of calm cooled her rage now: how could the girl know that she had hidden the ring in the Mackay shack? No one had ever known her to be related to the Mackays, she had hidden the connection, the killings had never been traced to her: the ring, surely, was safe.

And how could the girl, or anybody else, know about the cave or penetrate its protection? The idea of the locket being stolen was absurd …

As for the school: she alone knew where in Dragon Mort she had stowed the Horcrux, because she alone had plumbed the deepest secrets of that place …

And there was still Namzo, who must remain close now, no longer sent to do her bidding, under her protection …

But to be sure, to be utterly sure, she must return to each of her hiding places, she must redouble protection around each of her Horcruxes … a job, like the quest for the Stick of Fear, that she must undertake alone …

Which should she visit first, which was in most danger? And old unease flickered inside her. Crighton had known her last name - well, everyone had, but Crighton, being Crighton, must have been investigating her family's history, and somehow made a connection with the Mackays through that … their abandoned home was, perhaps, the least secure of her hiding places, it was there that she would go first …

The lake, surely impossible … though was there a slight possibility that Crighton might have known some of her past misdeeds, through the orphanage.

And Dragon Mort … but she knew that her Horcrux there was safe, it would be impossible for Pride-Lander to enter Dragsmeade without detection, let alone the school. Nevertheless, it would be prudent to alert Triphorm to the fact that the girl might try to re-enter the castle … to tell Triphorm why the girl might return would be foolish, of course; it had been a grave mistake to trust Katalina and Malty: didn't their stupidity and foolishness prove how unwise it was, ever, to trust?

She would visit the Mackay shack first, then, and take Namzo with her: she would not be parted from the snake any more … And she strode from the room, through the hall and out into the dark garden where the fountain played; she called the snake in Parseltongue and it slithered out to join her like a long shadow …

MY eyes flew open as I wrenched myself back to the present: I was lying on the bank of the lake in the setting sun, and Chris, Sian and Chrissie were looking down at me. Judging by their worried looks, and by the continued pounding of my scar, my sudden excursion into Zira's mind had not passed unnoticed. I struggled up, shivering, Chris helping me, vaguely surprised that I was still wet to my skin, and I saw the cup lying innocently in the grass before me and the lake, deep-blue shot with gold in the failing sun.

"She knows." My own voice sounded strange and low after Zira's high screams. "She knows, and she's going to check where the others are, and the last one," I was already on my feet, pulling out of Chris's grasp, ignoring his hurt look as there were more important things to think about, "is at Dragon Mort. I knew it. I _knew_ it."

"What?"

Chris and Chrissie were both gaping at me; Sian knelt up, looking worried.

"But what did you see? How do you know?"

"I saw her find out about the cup, I - I was in her head, she's - " I remembered the killings, "she's seriously angry, and scared too, she can't understand how we knew, and now she's going to check the others are safe, the ring first. She thinks the Dragon Mort one is safest, because Triphorm's there, because it'll be so hard not to be seen getting in, I think she'll check that one last, but she could still be there within hours - "

I broke off as I looked at Sian, who was looking more than worried now: by the way her eyes had widened and her mouth had opened in a silent gasp, she looked as though she had either just remembered something or else realised something. And then, she looked right at me, and she looked scared - scared for _me_. I did not know why, but I felt a bone-thrilling chill run right through me, for the look that Sian gave me surely meant nothing good. Before I could explore that look further, Chrissie's question drew my attention to her.

"Did you see where in Dragon Mort it is?" she asked, now scrambling to her feet, as Chris came over to me.

"No, she was concentrating on warning Triphorm, she didn't think about exactly where it is - "

"Wait, _wait_!" cried Sian, the scared look gone, as Chrissie caught up the Horcrux and I pulled out the Invisibility Cloak again. "We can't just _go_ , we don't have a plan, we need to - "

"We need to get going," I said firmly. I had been hoping to sleep, looking forward to getting into the new tent, but that was impossible now. "Can you imagine what she's going to do once she realises the ring and the locket are gone? What if she moves the Dragon Mort Horcrux, and decides it isn't safe enough?"

"But how are we going to get in?"

"We'll go to Dragsmeade," I said, "and try to work something out once we see what the protection around the school's like. Get under the Cloak, Sian, I want to stick together this time."

"But we don't really fit - "

"It'll be dark, no one's going to notice our feet."

The flapping of enormous wings echoed across the black water: the dragon had drunk its fill and risen into the air. We paused in our preparations to watch it climb higher and higher, now black against the rapidly darkening sky, until it vanished over a nearby mountain. Then Sian walked forwards and took her place between myself and Chrissie. I pulled the Cloak down as far as it would go, and together we turned on the spot into the crushing darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **The Missing Mirror**

 **KIARA**

My feet touched the ground. I saw the achingly familiar Dragsmeade High Street: dark shop fronts, and the outline of black mountains beyond the village, and the curve in the road ahead that led off towards Dragon Mort, and light spilling from the windows of the Flying Owls, and with a lurch of the heart, I remembered, with piercing accuracy, how I had landed here, nearly a year before, supporting a desperately weak Crighton; all this in a second, upon landing - and then, even as I relaxed my grip upon Chris and Sian's arms, it happened.

The air was rent by a scream that sounded like Zira's when she had realised the cup had been stolen: it tore at every nerve in my body, and I knew immediately that our appearance had caused it. Even as I looked at the other three beneath the Cloak, the door of the Flying Owls burst open and a dozen cloaked and hooded Love Destroyers dashed into the street, their wands aloft.

I seized Chris' wrist as he raised his wand. There were too many of them to Stun: even attempting it would give away our position. One of the Love Destroyers raised her wand and the scream stopped, still echoing around the distant mountains.

 _"Accio Cloak!"_ roared one of the Love Destroyers.

I seized its folds, but it made no attempt to escape: the Summoning Charm had not worked on it.

"Not under your wrapper, then, Pride-Lander?" yelled the Love Destroyer who had tried the charm, and then, to her fellows, "Spread out. She's here."

Six of the Love Destroyers ran towards us: Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I backed, as quickly as possible, down the nearest side street and the Love Destroyers missed us by inches. We waited in the darkness, listening to the footsteps running up and down, beams of light flying along the street from the Love Destroyers' searching wands.

"Let's just leave!" Sian whispered. "Disapparate now!"

"Great idea," said Chrissie, but before I could reply, a Love Destroyer shouted, "We know you're here, Pride-Lander, and there's no getting away! We'll find you!"

"They were ready for us," I whispered. "They set up that spell to tell them we'd come. I reckon they've done something to keep us here, trap us - "

"What about Stingers?" called another Love Destroyer. "Let 'em have free reign, they'd find her quick enough!"

"The Scarlet Lady wants Pride-Lander dead by no hand but hers - "

" - an' Stingers won't kill her! The Scarlet Lady wants Pride-Lander's life, not her soul. She'll be easier to kill if she's been sucked first!"

There were noises of agreement. Dread filled me: to repel Stingers we would have to produce Patronuses, which would give us away immediately.

"We're going to have to try to Disapparate, Kiara!" Sian whispered.

Even as she said it, I felt the unnatural cold begin to steal over the street. Light wads sucked from the environment right up to the stars, which vanished. In the pitch blackness, I felt Sian take hold of my arm and together, we turned on the spot.

The air through which we needed to move seemed to have become solid: we could not Disapparate; the Love Destroyers had cast their charms well, I'll say that much. The cold was biting deeper and deeper into my flesh, even as the droning buzzing sound grew louder. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I retreated down the side street, groping our way along the wall, trying not to make a sound. Then, round the corner, their mottled wings buzzing, their huge blood-red eyes fixed unblinkingly on us, came Stingers, ten or more of them, visible because they were of a denser darkness than their surroundings, with their black cloaks and their scabbed and rotting hands. Could they sense fear in the vicinity? I was sure of it: they seemed to be coming more quickly now, taking those dragging, rattling breaths I detested, tasting despair on the air, closing in -

I raised my wand: I could not, would not, suffer the Stinger's Suck, whatever happened afterwards. It was of Chris, Sian and Chrissie that I thought of as I whispered, _"Expecto Patronum!"_

The silver lioness burst from my wand and charged: the Stingers scattered and there was a triumphant yell from somewhere out of sight.

"It's her, down there, I saw her Patronus, it was a lioness!"

The Stingers had retreated, the stars were popping out again, and the footsteps of the Love Destroyers were becoming louder; but before my panic-addled brain could decide what to do, there was a grinding of bolts nearby, a door opened on the left-hand side of the narrow street and a rough voice said, "Pride-Lander, in here, quick!"

I obeyed without hesitation: the four of us hurtled through the open doorway.

"Upstairs, keep the Cloak on, keep quiet!" muttered a tall figure, passing us on her way into the street and slamming a door behind her.

I had no idea where we were, but now I saw, by the stuttering light of a single candle, the grubby, sawdust-strewn bar of the Dragon's Eye. We ran behind the counter and through a second doorway, which led to a rickety wooden staircase, which we climbed as fast as we could. The stairs opened on to a sitting room with a threadbare carpet and a small fireplace, above which hung a single large oil painting of a brown haired boy who gazed out at the room with a kind of vacant sweetness.

Shouts reached us from the street below. Still wearing the Invisibility Cloak, we crept towards the grimy window and looked down. Our saviour, whom I now recognised as the Dragon's Eye's barmaid, was the only person not wearing a hood.

"So what?" she was bellowing into one of the hooded faces. "So what? You send Stingers down my street, I'll send a Patronus back at 'em! I'm not having 'em near me, I've told you that, I'm not having it!"

"That wasn't your Patronus!" said a Love Destroyer. "That was a lioness, it was Pride-Lander's!"

"Lioness!" roared the barmaid, and she pulled out a wand. "Lioness! You idiot - _expecto patronum_!"

Something huge and puffy emerged from the wand: head down it charged towards the High Street and out of sight.

"That's not what I saw - "said the Love Destroyer, though with less certainty.

"Curfew's been broken, you heard the noise," one of her companions told the barmaid. "Someone was out there in the street against regulations - "

"If I want to put my cat out, I will, and be damned to your curfew!"

" _You_ set off the Caterwauling Charm?"

"What if I did? Going to cart me off to Azkaban? Kill me for sticking my nose out my own front door? Do it, then, if you want to! But I hope for your sakes you haven't pressed your little Death Trails and summoned her. She's not going to like being called here for me and my old cat, is she, now?"

"Don't you worry about us," said one of the Love Destroyers, "worry about yourself, breaking curfew!"

"And where will you lot traffic potions and poisons when my pub's been closed down? What'll happen to your little sidelines then?"

"Are you threatening - ?"

"I keep my mouth shut, it's why you come here, isn't it?"

"I still say I saw a lioness Patronus!" shouted the first Love Destroyer.

"Lioness?" roared the barmaid. "It's a _sheep_ , idiot!"

"All right, we made a mistake," said the second Love Destroyer. "Break curfew again and we won't be so lenient!"

The Love Destroyers strode back towards the High Street. Sian moaned with relief, wove out from under the Cloak and sat down on a wobble-legged chair. I pulled the curtains tight shut, then pulled the Cloak off myself, Chris and Chrissie. We could hear the barmaid down below, rebolting the door of the bar, then climbing the stairs.

My attention was caught by something on the mantelpiece: a small, rectangular mirror propped on top of it, right beneath the portrait of the boy.

The barmaid entered the room.

"You bloody fools," she said gruffly, looking from one to the other of us, her gaze lingering momentarily on Sian before moving on. "What were you thinking, coming here?"

"Thank you," I said, "we can't thank you enough. You saved our lives."

The barmaid grunted. I approached her, looking up into the face, trying to see past the long, stringy, wire-grey hair. She wore spectacles. Behind the dirty lenses, the eyes were a piercing, brilliant green.

"It's your eye I've been seeing in the mirror."

There was silence in the room. The barmaid and I looked at each other.

"You sent Dokey."

The barmaid nodded and looked around for the elf.

"Thought she'd be with you? Where've you left her?"

"She's dead," I said. "Katalina Outsider killed her."

The barmaid's face was impassive. After a few moments, she said, "I'm sorry to hear it. I liked that elf."

She turned away, lighting lamps with prods of her wand, not looking at any of us.

"Hello, Aunt Sara," said Sian quietly to the woman's back.

"Hi," said Chrissie awkwardly.

"'S'up?" said Chris, trying, and failing, to sound cool. Sian rolled her eyes at him.

Sara did not answer them, but bent to light to fire.

"How did you get this?" I asked, walking across to Pumbaa's mirror, the twin of the one I had broken nearly two years before.

"Bought it from Mona 'bout a year ago," said Sara. "Susan told me what it was. Been trying to keep an eye out for you."

Chrissie gasped.

"The silver lion!" she said excitedly. "Was that you too?"

"What are you talking about?" said Sara.

"Someone sent a lion Patronus to us!"

"Brains like that, Chrissie, you could be a Love Destroyer. Haven't I just proved my Patronus is a sheep?"

"Oh," said Chrissie. "Yeah … well, I'm hungry!" she added defensively, as her stomach gave an enormous rumble.

"I got food," said Sara, and she sloped out of the room, reappearing moments later with a large loaf of bread, some cheese and a pewter jug of mead, which she set upon a small table in front of the fire. Ravenous, we ate and drank, and for a while there was silence but for the crackle of the fire, the clink of goblets and the sound of chewing.

"Right then," said Sara, when we had eaten our fill, and Chris, Chrissie and I sat slumped dozily in our chairs. "We need to think of the best way to get you out of here. Can't be done by night, you heard what happens if anyone moves outdoors during darkness: Caterwauling Charm's set off, they'll be on you like Bowtruckles on Doxy eggs. I don't reckon I'll be able to pass off a lioness as a sheep a second time. Wait for daybreak, when curfew lifts, then you can put your Cloak back on and set out on foot. Get right out of Dragsmeade, up into the mountains, and you'll be able to Disapparate there. Might see Mina. She's been hiding in a cave up there with Harlow ever since they tried to arrest her."

"We're not leaving," I said. "We need to get into Dragon Mort."

"Don't be stupid, girl," said Sara.

"We've got to," I said.

"What you've got to do," said Sara, leaning forwards, "is to get as far from here as you can."

"You don't understand. There isn't much time. We've got to get into the castle. Crighton - I mean, your sister - wanted us - "

The firelight made the grimy lenses of Sara's glasses momentarily opaque; a bright, flat white, and I remembered the blind eyes of the giant spider, Aratota.

"My sister Susan wanted a lot of things," said Sara, "and people had a habit of getting hurt while she was carrying out her grand plans. You get away from this school, Pride-Lander, and out of the country if you can. Forget my sister and her clever schemes. She's gone where none of this can hurt her, and you don't owe her anything."

"You don't understand," I said again.

"Oh, don't I?" said Sara quietly. "You don't think I understood my own sister? Think you knew Susan better than I did?"

"I didn't mean that," I said. My brain felt sluggish with exhaustion and from the surfeit of food and wine. "It's … she left me a job."

"Did she, now?" said Sara. "Nice job, I hope? Pleasant? Easy? Sort of thing you'd expect an unqualified witch kid to be able to do without overstretching themselves?"

Chris was frowning at Sara. Sian was looking strained. Chrissie gave a rather grim laugh.

"I - it's not easy, no," I said. "But I've got to - "

"'Got to?' Why _'got to'_? She's dead, isn't she?" said Sara roughly. "Let it go, girl, before you follow her! Save yourself!"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I - " I felt overwhelmed; I could not explain, so I took the offensive instead. "But you're fighting too, you're in the Order of the Centaur - "

"I was," said Sara. "The Order of the Centaur is finished. She-You-Know's won, it's over, and anyone who's pretending different's kidding themselves. It'll never be safe for you here, Pride-Lander, she wants you too badly. So go abroad, go into hiding, save yourself. Best take these three with you." She jerked her head in Chris, Sian and Chrissie's direction. "They'll be in danger long as the live now everyone knows they've been working with you."

"I can't leave," I said. "I've got a job - "

"Give it to someone else!"

"I can't, it's got to be me, Crighton explained it all - "

"Oh, did she, now? And did she tell you everything, was she honest with you?"

I wanted with all my heart to say 'yes', but somehow the simple word would not rise to my lips. Sara seemed to know what I was thinking.

"I knew my sister, Pride-Lander. She learned secrecy at our father's knee. Secrets and lies, that's how we grew up, and Susan … she was a natural."

The old woman's eyes travelled to the painting of the boy over the mantelpiece. It was, now I looked around properly, the only picture in the room. There was no picture of Susan Crighton, nor of anyone else.

"Aunt Sara?" said Sian quietly. "Is that your brother? Our uncle? Shaun?"

"Yes," said Sara tersely. "Been reading Peter Meter, have you, Sian?"

Even by the light of the fire it was clear that Sian had turned red.

"Ellie Dodge mentioned him to us," I said, trying to spare Sian.

"That old berk," muttered Sara, taking another swig of mead. "Thought the sun shone out of my sister's every orifice, she did. Well, so did plenty of people, you four included, by the looks of it."

I kept quiet. I did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about Crighton that had riddled me for months now. I had made my choice while I dug Dokey's grave; I had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for me by Susan Crighton, to accept that I had not been told everything that I wanted to know, but simply to trust. I had no desire to doubt again, I did not want to hear anything that would deflect me from my purpose. I met Sara's gaze, which was so strikingly like her sister's: the bright green eyes gave the same impression that they were X-raying the object of their scrutiny, and I thought that Sara knew what I was thinking, and despised me for it.

"Ma cared about Kiara, very much," said Sian fiercely.

"Did she, now?" said Sara. "Funny thing, how many of the people my sister cared about very much, ended up in a worse state than if she'd left 'em well alone."

Sian's eyes widened as her face drained of all colour.

"W-what do you mean?" she said breathlessly.

"Never you mind," said Sara.

"But that's a really serious thing to say!" said Sian. "Are you - are you talking about me? Or your brother?"

Sara glared at her: her lips moved as though she were chewing the words she was holding back. Then she burst into speech.

"When my brother was six years old, he was attacked, set upon, by three Muggle girls. They'd seen him doing magic, spying through the back garden hedge: he was a kid, he couldn't control it, no witch or wizard can at that age. What they saw scared them, I expect. They forced their way through the hedge, and when he couldn't show them the trick, they got a bit carried away trying to stop the little freak doing it."

Chris looked slightly sick: Sian's eyes were huge in the firelight: Chrissie's eyes were brimming with tears. Sara stood up, tall as Susan, and suddenly terrible in her anger and the intensity of her pain.

"It destroyed him what they did: he was never right again. He wouldn't use magic, but he couldn't get rid of it: it turned inwards and drove him mad, it exploded out of him when he couldn't control it, and at times he was strange and dangerous. But mostly he was sweet, and scared, and harmless.

"And my mother went after the bitches that did it," said Sara, "and attacked them. And they locked her up in Azkaban for it. She never said why she'd done it, because if the Ministry had known what Shaun had become, he'd have been locked up in St Mungo's for good. They'd have seen him as a serious threat to the International Statue of Secrecy, unbalanced like he was with magic exploding out of him at moments when he couldn't keep it in any longer.

"We had to keep him safe, and quiet. We moved house, and country, put it about he was ill, and my father looked after him, and tried to keep him calm and happy.

" _I_ was his favourite," she said, and as she said it, a grubby schoolgirl seemed to look out through Sara's wrinkles and tangled hair. "Not Susan, she was always up in her bedroom when she was home, reading her books and counting her prizes, keeping up with her correspondence with 'the most notable magical names of the day'," Sara sneered, " _she_ didn't want to be bothered with him. He liked me best. I could get him to eat when he wouldn't do it for my father, I could get him to calm down when he was in one of his rages, and when he was quiet, he used to help me feed the sheep.

"Then, when he was fourteen … see, I wasn't there," said Sara. "If I'd been there, I could have calmed him down. He had one of his rages, and my father wasn't as young as he was, and … it was an accident. Shaun couldn't control it. But my father was killed."

I felt a horrible mixture of pity and repulsion; I did not want to hear any more, but Sara kept talking and I wondered how long it had been since she had spoken about this, whether, in fact, she had ever spoken about it.

"So that put paid to Susan's trip round the world with little Dodge. The pair of 'em came home for my father's funeral and then Dodge went off on her own, and Susan settled down as head of the family. Ha!"

Sara spat into the fire.

"I'd have looked after him, I told her so, I didn't care about school, I'd have stayed home and done it. She told me I had to finish my education and _she'd_ take over from my father. Bit of a comedown for Miss Brilliant, there's no prize for looking after your half-mad brother, stopping him blowing up the house every other day. But she did all right for a few weeks … 'til she came."

And now a positively dangerous look came over Sara's face.

"Femwazz. And at last, my sister had an _equal_ to talk to, someone just as bright and talented as _she_ was. And looking after Shaun took a back seat then, while they were hatching all their plans for a new wizarding order, and looking for _the Hand_ , and whatever else it was they were so interested in. Grand plans for the benefit of all wizardkind, and if one young boy got neglected, what did it matter, when Susan was working _for the good of the magical_?

"But after a few weeks of it, I'd had enough, I had. It was nearly time for me to go back to Dragon Mort, so I told 'em, both of 'em, face to face, like I am to you now," and Sara looked down at me, and it took little imagination to see her as a teenager, wiry and angry, confronting her eldest sister. "I told her, you'd better give it up now. You can't move him, he's in no fir state, you can't take him with you, wherever it is you're planning to go, when you're making your clever speeches, trying to whip yourselves up a following. She didn't like that," said Sara, and her eyes were briefly occluded by the firelight on the lenses of her glasses: they shone white and blind again. "Femwazz didn't like that at all. She got angry. She told me what a stupid little girl I was, trying to stand in the way of her and my brilliant sister … didn't I _understand_ , my poor brother wouldn't _have_ to be hidden once they'd changed the world, and led the wizards out of hiding, and taught the Muggles their place?

"And there was an argument … and I pulled out my wand, and she pulled out hers, and I had the Cruciatus Curse used on me by my sister's best friend - and Susan was trying to stop her, and then all three of us were duelling, and the flashing lights and the bangs set him off, he couldn't stand it - "

The colour was draining from Sara's face as though she had suffered a mortal wound.

" - and I think he wanted to help, but he didn't really know what he was doing, and I don't know which of us did it, it could have been any of us - and he was dead."

Her voice broke on the last word and she dropped down into the nearest chair. Chris was almost as pale as Sara and Sian and Chrissie's faces were wet with tears. I felt nothing but revulsion: I wished I had not heard it, wished I could wash my mind clean of it.

"I'm so … I'm so sorry," Sian whispered.

"Gone," croaked Sara. "Gone forever."

She wiped her nose on her cuff, and cleared her throat.

"'Course, Femwazz scarpered. She had a bit of a track record already, back in her own country, and she didn't want Shaun set to her account too. And Susan was free, wasn't she? Free of the burden of her brother, free to become the greatest witch of the - "

"She was never free," I said.

"I beg your pardon?" said Sara.

"Never," I said. "The night that your sister died she drank a potion that drove her out of her mind. She started screaming, pleading with someone who wasn't there. _Don't hurt them, please … hurt me instead._ "

Chris and Chrissie were staring at me. I had never gone into details about what had happened on the island on the lake: the events that had taken place after Crighton and I had returned to Dragon Mort I had eclipsed it through so thoroughly. In fact, the only one I had told was Sian, and we shared a brief smile.

"She thought she was back there with you and Femwazz, I know she did," I said, remembering Crighton whimpering, pleading. "She thought she was watching Femwazz hurting you and Shaun … it was torture to her, if you'd seen her then, you wouldn't say she was free."

Sara seemed lost in contemplation of her own knotted and veined hands. After a long pause, she said, "How can you be sure, Pride-Lander, that my sister wasn't more interested in the greater good than in you? How can you be sure you aren't dispensable, just like my little brother?"

A shard of ice seemed to pierce my heart.

"I don't believe it. Ma loved - _loves_ Kiara, just as much as she loves me," said Sian.

"Why didn't she tell you to hide, then?" shot back Sara. "Why didn't she say to you, take care of yourselves, here's how to survive?"

"Because, Aunt," said Sian, losing all patience now, standing up and looking down at Sara, "this is not just about us. This is about the entire world we're talking about here, or have you forgotten about this war that's going on around us?"

"But you're seventeen - "

"Do you think we care about how old we are?" Sian said heatedly. "Do you think we wanted to be a part of this? Of course we didn't! We were unwillingly unforced into this mess, just like everyone else was! So we don't care that you've given up, Aunt, because we certainly won't! We will fight and keep on fighting until we succeed or die, thanks to the information my mother passed on to us. This is war, Aunt; death and war don't care about age, they care about how many victims they get, which evil seems to always relish."

Chris, Chrissie and I stared at Sian. Sara merely scowled at her.

"We are going to get into Dragon Mort, tonight if possible, with or without your help, Aunt," Sian told her simply. "If you can't help us, then we'll wait 'til tomorrow, find a way in ourselves, and you'll never have to bother with us again. If, however, you can help us in some way, then we'd be really glad to hear it."

Sara remained fixed in her chair, gazing at Sian with the eyes that were so extraordinarily like her sister's. At last she cleared her throat, got to her feet, walked around the little table and approached the portrait of Shaun.

"You know what to do," she said.

He smiled, turned and walked away, not as people in portraits usually did, out of the sides of their frames, but along what seemed to be a long tunnel painted behind him. We watched his slight figure retreating until finally he was swallowed by the darkness.

"Er - what - ?" asked Chrissie.

"There's only one way in, now," said Sara. "You must know they've got all the old secret passageways covered at both ends, Stingers all around the boundary walls, regular patrols inside the school from what my sources tell me. The place has never been so heavily guarded. How you expect to do anything once you get inside it, with Triphorm in charge and the Csintalans as her Deputies … well, that's your lookout, isn't it? You say you're prepared to die."

"But what …" said Chris, frowning at Shaun's picture.

A tiny white dot had appeared at the end of the painted tunnel, and now Shaun was walking back towards us, growing bigger and bigger as he came. But there was somebody else with him now, someone taller than he was, who was limping along, looking excited. Her hair was longer than I had ever seen it: she appeared to have suffered several gashes to her face and her clothes were ripped and torn. Larger and larger the two figures grew, until only their heads and shoulders filled the portrait. Then the whole thing swung forwards on the wall like a little door, and the entrance to a real tunnel was revealed. And out of it, her hair overgrown, her face cut, her robes ripped, clambered the real Nikita Bore, who gave a squeal of delight, leapt down from the mantelpiece and yelled, "I knew you'd come! _I knew it, Kiara!_ "


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

 **The Lost Diadem**

 **KIARA**

"Nikita - what the - how - ?"

But Nikita spotted Chris, Sian and Chrissie, and with yells of delight was hugging them too. The longer I looked at Nikita, the worse she appeared: one of her eyes was swollen, yellow and purple, there were gouge marks on her face, and her general air of unkemptness suggested that she had been living rough. Nevertheless, her battered visage shone with happiness as she let go of Sian and said again, "I knew you'd come! Kept telling Zara it was only a matter of time!"

"Nikita, what happened to you?"

"What? This?" Nikita dismissed her injuries with a shake of the head. "This is nothing. Zara's worse. You'll see. Shall we get going, then? Oh," she turned to Sara, "Sara, there might be a couple more people on the way."

"Couple more?" repeated Sara ominously. "What d'you mean, a couple more, Bore? There's a curfew and a Caterwauling Charm on the whole village!"

"I know, that's why they'll be Apparating directly into the bar," said Nikita. "Just send them down the passage when they get here, will you? Thanks a lot."

As Nikita held out her hand to help Sian climb up on to the mantelpiece, Sara called, "Wait!" Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Nikita and I all looked at her: I could not see her eyes, but I knew that she was looking directly at Sian, wearing a curious expression. Then, after a moment or two had passed, she said, "Come here, you three."

Chris, Sian and Chrissie approached their aunt nervously. Once they were standing in front of her, Sara looked at each of them closely, touching each of their faces gently in turn for a few seconds. Reaching Sian last, she said, "Take care of them, won't you?"

Sian nodded and said, "I'll try to, Aunt."

"I know you will," said Sara, smiling slightly for the first time. She then kissed each of them on the head before letting them go.

Sian then ran to Nikita, who was still holding her hand out to help her climb up on to the mantelpiece and into the tunnel, which she took; then Chris, then Chrissie, then Nikita. I addressed Sara.

"I don't know how to thank you. You've saved our lives, twice."

"Look after 'em, then," said Sara gruffly. "I might not be able to save 'em a third time."

I clambered up on to the mantelpiece and through the hole behind Shaun's portrait. There were smooth stone steps on the other side: it looked as though the passageway had been there for years. Brass lamps hung from the walls and the earthy floor was worn and smooth; as we walked, our shadows rippled, fan-like, across the wall.

"How long's this been here?" Chrissie asked, as we set off. "It isn't on the Scallywag's Map, is it, Kiara? I thought there were only seven passages in and out of school?"

"They sealed off all of those before the start of the year," said Nikita. "There's no chance of getting through any of them now, not with curses over the entrances and Love Destroyers and Stingers waiting at the exits." She started walking backwards, beaming, drinking us in. "Never mind that stuff … is it true? Did you break into Fauntrotts? Did you escape on a dragon? It's everywhere, everyone's talking about it, Teri Boots got beaten up by Csintalan for yelling about it in the Great Hall at dinner!"

"Yeah, it's true," I said.

Nikita laughed gleefully.

"What did you do with the dragon?"

"Released it into the wild," said Chrissie. "Chris was all for keeping it as a pet - "

"Chrissie, don't exaggerate - "

"But what have you been doing? People have been saying you've just been on the run, Kiara, but I don't think so. I think you've been up to something."

"You're right," I said, "but tell us about Dragon Mort, Nikita, we haven't heard anything."

"It's been … well, it's not really like Dragon Mort any more," said Nikita, the smile fading from her face as she spoke. "Do you know about the Csintalans?"

"Those two Love Destroyers who teach here?"

"They do more than teach," said Nikita. "They're in charge of all discipline. They like punishment, the Csintalans."

"Like Umber?"

"Nah, they make him look tame. The other teachers are all supposed to refer us to the Csintalans if we do anything wrong. They don't, though, if they can avoid it. You can tell they all hate them as much as we do.

"Acantha, the woman, she teaches what used to be Defence Against the Dark Arts, except now it's just the Dark Arts. We're supposed to practice the Cruciatus Curse on people who've earned detentions - "

 _"What?"_

Mine, Chris, Sian and Chrissie's voices echoed up and down the passage.

"Yeah," said Nikita. "That's how I got this one," she pointed at a particularly deep gash in her cheek, "I refused to do it. Some people are into it, though; Crate and Gabber love it. First time they've ever been top in anything, I expect.

"Abbadon, Acantha's brother, teaches Muggle Studies, which is compulsory for everyone again. We've all got to listen to him explain how Muggles are like animals, stupid and dirty, and how they drove wizards into hiding by being vicious towards them, and how the natural order is being re-established. I got this one," she indicated another slash to her face, "for asking him how much Muggle blood he and his sister have got."

"Blimey, Nikita," said Chrissie, "there's a time and a place for getting a smart mouth."

"You didn't hear him," said Nikita. "You wouldn't have stood it either. The thing is, it helps when people stand up to them it gives everyone hope. I used to notice that when you did it, Kiara."

"But they've used you as a knife sharpener," said Chrissie, wincing slightly as we passed a lamp and Nikita's injuries were thrown into even greater relief.

Nikita shrugged.

"Doesn't matter. They don't want to spill too much pure blood, so they'll torture us a bit if we're mouthy but they won't actually kill us."

I didn't know what was worse, the things that Nikita was saying or the matter-of-fact tone in which she said them.

"The only ones who are in real danger are the ones whose friends and relatives on the outside are giving trouble. They get taken hostage. Old Xion Lovedream was getting a bit too outspoken in _The Mystics_ , so they dragged Lincoln off the subs on the way back for Christmas."

"Nikita, he's all right, we've seen him - "

"Yeah, I know, he managed to get a message to me."

From a pocket she pulled a golden coin, and I recognised it as one of the fake Galleons that Crighton's Army had used to send one another messages.

"These have been great," said Nikita, beaming at Sian. "The Csintalans never rumbled how we were communicating, it drove them mad. We used to sneak out at night and put graffiti on the walls: _Crighton's Arm, Still Recruiting_ , stuff like that. Triphorm hated it."

"You _used to_?" I said, noticing the past tense.

"Well, it got more difficult as time went on," said Nikita. "We lost Lincoln at Christmas and Kestrel and the rest of your siblings, Sian, never came back after Easter, and the three of us and Keziah were sort of the leaders. The Csintalans seemed to know I was behind a lot of it, so they started coming down on me hard, and then Michelle Corn went and got caught releasing a first-year they'd chained up, and they tortured her pretty badly. That scared people off."

"No kidding," muttered Chris, as the passage began to slope upwards.

"Yeah, well, I couldn't ask people to go through what Michelle did, so we dropped those kind of stunts. But we were still fighting, doing underground stuff, right up until a couple of weeks ago. That's when they decided there was only one way to stop me, I suppose, and they went for Granddad."

"They _what_?" said Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I together.

"Yeah," said Nikita, panting a little now, because the passage was climbing so steeply, "well, you can see their thinking. It had worked really well, kidnapping kids to force their parents, I s'pose it was only a matter of time they did it the other way round. Thing was," she faced us, and I was astonished to see that she was grinning, "they bit off a bit more than they could chew with Granddad. A poor old man, living alone, they probably thought they didn't need to send anyone particularly powerful. Anyway," Nikita laughed, "Dali is still in St Mungo's and Granddad's on the run. He sent me a letter," she clapped a hand to the breast pocket of her robes, "telling me he was proud of me, that I'm my parents' daughter, and to keep it up."

"Cool," said Chrissie.

"Yeah," said Nikita happily. "Only thing was, once they realised they had no hold over me, they decided Dragon Mort could do without me after all. I don't know whether they were planning to kill me or send me to Azkaban, either way, I knew it was time to disappear."

"But," said Chrissie, looking thoroughly confused, "aren't - aren't we heading straight back into Dragon Mort?"

"'Course," said Nikita. "You'll see. We're here."

We turned a corner and there ahead of us was the end of the passage. Another short flight of steps led to a door just like the one hidden behind Shaun's portrait. Nikita pushed it open and climbed through. As I followed, I heard Nikita call out to unseen people: "Look who it is! Didn't I tell you?"

As I emerged into the room beyond the passage, there were several screams and yells -

"KIARA!"

"It's Pride-Lander, it's PRIDE-LANDER!"

"Chris!"

 _"Sian!"_

"Chrissie!"

I had a confused impression of coloured hangings, of lamps and many faces. The next moment, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I were engulfed, hugged, pounded on the back, our hair ruffled, our hands shaken, by what seemed to be more than twenty people: we might have just won a Quidditch Final.

"OK, OK, calm down!" Nikita called, and as the crowd backed away, I was able to take in our surroundings.

I did not recognise the room at all. It was enormous, and looked rather like the interior of a particularly sumptuous tree house, or perhaps a gigantic ship's cabin. Multicoloured hammocks were strung from the ceiling and from a balcony that ran around the dark wood-panelled and windowless walls, which were covered in bright tapestry hangings: I saw the gold Lion-Heart lion, emblazoned on scarlet; the black badger of Badger-Stripes, set against yellow; the bronze raven of Raven-Wings on blue, and the silver snake of Snake-Eyes set on green. There were bulging bookcases, a few broomsticks propped against the walls, and in the corner, a large wooden-cased wireless.

"Where are we?"

"Room of Needs, of course!" said Nikita. "Surpassed itself, hasn't it? The Csintalans were chasing me, and I knew I had just one chance for a hideout: I managed to get through the door and this is what I found! Well, it wasn't exactly like this when I arrived, it was a load smaller, there was only one hammock and just Lion-Heart hangings. But it's expanded as more and more of the CA have arrived."

"And the Csintalans can't get in?" I asked, looking around for the door.

"No," said Zara, whom I had not recognised until she spoke: Zara's face was bruised and puffy. "It's a proper hideout, as long as one of us stays in here, they can't get at us, the door won't open. It's all down to Nikita. She really _gets_ this room. You've got to ask it for _exactly_ what you need - like 'I don't want any Csintalan supporters to be able to get in' - and it'll do it for you! You've just got to make sure you close the loopholes. Nikita's the girl!"

"It's quite straightforward, really," said Nikita modestly. "I'd been in here about a day and a half, and getting really hungry, and wishing I could get something to eat, and that's when the passage to the Dragon's Eye opened up. I went through it and met Sara. She's been providing us with food, because for some reason, that's the one thing the Room doesn't really do."

"Yeah, well, food's one of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration," said Chrissie, to general astonishment.

"So we've been hiding out here for nearly two weeks," said Zara, "and it just makes more hammocks. Every time we need them, and it came with a pretty good bathroom as soon as Nikita showed up - "

"And what's wrong with us girls taking care of how we smell after a few days, Zara?" said Keziah, whom I had not noticed until that point, and who looked just as bad as Zara. Now that I looked around properly, I recognised many familiar faces. Larry Brown was there, as were the Rimmer twins, Parry Party, Teri Boots, Emily Mac, Annabelle Goldform and Michelle Corn.

"Tell us what you've been up to, though," said Emily, "there've been so many rumours, we've been trying to keep up with you on _Pridewatch_." She pointed at the wireless. "You didn't break into Fauntrotts?"

"They did!" said Nikita. "And the dragon's true too!"

There was a smattering of applause and a few whoops; Chrissie took a curtsey.

"What were you after?" asked Zara eagerly.

Before any of us could parry the question with one of our own, I felt a terrible, scorching pain in the flame scar. As I turned my back hastily on the curious and delighted faces, the Room of Needs vanished, and I - no, Zira - was standing inside a ruined stone shack, and the crumbled concrete was blasted apart at her feet, a disinterred silver box lay open and empty beside the hole, and Zira's scream of fury vibrated inside my head.

With an enormous effort, I pulled out of Zira's mind again, back to where I stood, swaying, in the Room of Needs, sweat pouring from my face and Chris holding me up.

"Are you all right, Kiara?" Nikita was saying. "Want to sit down? I expect you're tired, aren't - ?"

"No," I said. I looked at Chris, Sian and Chrissie, trying to tell them without words that Zira had just discovered the loss of one of the other Horcruxes. Time was running out fast: if Zira chose to visit Dragon Mort next we would miss our chance.

"We need to get going," I said, and their expressions told me that they understood.

"What are we going to do, then, Kiara?" asked Zara. "What's the plan?"

"Plan?" I repeated. I was exercising all my will power to prevent myself succumbing again to Zira's rage: my scar was still burning. "Well, there's something we - Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I - need to do, and then we'll get out of here."

Nobody was laughing or whooping any more. Nikita looked confused.

"What d'you mean, 'get out of here'?"

"We haven't come back to stay," I said, rubbing my scar, trying to soothe the pain. "There's something important we need to do - "

"What is it?"

"I - I can't tell you."

There was a ripple of muttering at this: Nikita's brows contracted.

"Why can't you tell us? It's something to do with fighting She-You-Know, right?"

"Well, yeah - "

"Then we'll help you."

The other members of Crighton's Army were nodding, some enthusiastically, others solemnly. A couple of them rose from their chairs to demonstrate their willingness for immediate action.

"You don't understand." I seemed to have said that a lot in the last few hours. "We - we can't tell you. We've got to do it - alone."

"Why?" asked Nikita.

"Because …" In my desperation to start looking for the missing Horcrux, or at least to have a private discussion with Chris, Sian and Chrissie about where we might commence our search, I found it difficult to gather my thoughts. My scar was still searing. "Crighton left the four of us a job," I said carefully, "and we weren't supposed to tell - I mean, she wanted us to do it, just the four of us."

"We're her Army," said Nikita. "Crighton's Army. We were all in it together, we've been keeping it going while you four have been off on your own - "

"It hasn't exactly been a picnic, mate," said Chrissie.

"I never said it had, but I don't see why you can't trust us. Everyone in this Room's been fighting and they've been driven in here because the Csintalans were hunting them down. Everyone in here's proven they're loyal to Crighton - loyal to you."

"Look," I began, without knowing what I was going to say, but it did not matter: the tunnel door had just opened behind me.

"We got your message, Nikita! Hello, you four, I thought you must be here!"

It was Lincoln and Dena. Zara, upon seeing her best friend, ran to embrace her.

"Hi, everyone!" said Lincoln happily. "Oh, it's great to be back!"

"Lincoln," I said distractedly, "what are you doing here? How did you - ?"

"I sent for him," said Nikita, holding up the fake Galleon. "I promised him and Kestrel that if you turned up I'd let them know. We all thought that if you came back, it would mean revolution. That we were going to overthrow Triphorm and the Csintalans."

"Of course that's what it means," said Lincoln brightly. "Isn't it, Kiara? We're going to fight them out of Dragon Mort?"

"Listen," I said, with a rising sense of panic, "I'm sorry, but that's not what we came back for. There's something we've got to do, and then - "

"You're going to leave us in this mess?" demanded Michelle Corn.

"No!" said Chris. "What we're doing will benefit everyone in the end, it's all about trying to get rid of She-You-Know - "

"Then let us help!" said Nikita angrily. "We want to be a part of it!"

There was another noise from behind us, and I turned. I heard Sian gasp beside me as she saw who it was who came through the tunnel: Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max, Ben and Dave were now climbing through the hole in the wall. As soon as they saw each other, the siblings ran to each other, where hugs were given and many tears were shed between them, Sian included, and it looked to me like they were a mother embracing her young. The youngest Dawsons were all talking over each other, saying things like, "We're so happy to see you, Sian!", "We never thought we'd see you again!", "We missed you so much,", "Never leave us again!" But Sian just smiled at each of them in turn through her tears, touching each of them gently, simply content to be reunited with her siblings again after so many months apart.

After a few minutes, Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max, Ben and Dave noticed Chris and Chrissie and ran to greet them. "For a second there I thought you'd forgotten about us!" said Chrissie, half-jokingly, but the others ignored her. I also got some love from the youngest Dawson siblings too, which I responded to without hesitation, even if I was surprised to be receiving such a reaction from them.

As all this was going on, I saw Tanya, Geri and Leah Jones come through the hole in the wall, drawing all eyes on them.

"Sara's getting a bit ratty," said Tanya, raising her hand in answer to several cries of greeting. "She wants a kip, and her bar's turned into a railway station."

My mouth fell open. Right behind Leah Jones came my old boyfriend, Khan Chan. He smiled at me; but upon seeing him, Chris put an arm around me possessively.

"I got the message," he said nervously, avoiding Chris' eye as he held up his own fake Galleon, and he walked over to sit beside Michelle Corn.

"So what's the plan, Kiara?" said Geri.

"There isn't one," I said, still disorientated by the sudden appearance of all these people, unable to take everything in while my scar was still burning so fiercely.

"Just going to make it up as we go along, are we? My favourite kind," said Tanya.

"You've got to stop this!" I told Nikita. "What did you call them all back for? This is insane - "

"We're fighting, aren't we?" said Dena, taking out her fake Galleon. "The message said Kiara was back, and we were going to fight! I'll have to get a wand, though - "

"You haven't got a _wand_ \- ?" began Zara.

Chrissie suddenly turned to me.

"Why can't they help?"

"What?"

"They can help." She dropped her voice and said, so that none of them could hear her but Chris and Sian, who stood next to her. "We don't know where it is. We've got to find it fast. We don't have to tell them it's a Horcrux."

I looked from Chrissie, to Chris, to Sian, who murmured, "I think Chrissie's right. We don't even know what we're looking for. We need them."

I still wasn't convinced as Chris took my chin between his forefinger and his thumb, turned my face to his and, brushing a strand of hair out of my face, said, "You don't have to go through everything alone, Kiara."

I thought fast, my scar still prickling, my head threatening to split again. Crighton had warned me against telling anyone but Chris, Sian and Chrissie about the Horcruxes. _Secrets and lies, that's how we grew up, and Susan … she was a natural_... Was I turning into Crighton, keeping secrets clutched to my chest, afraid to trust? But Crighton had trusted Triphorm, and where had that led? To her murder at the top of the highest tower …

"All right," I said quietly to the other three. "OK," I called to the Room at large, and all noise ceased: Tanya and Geri, who had been cracking jokes for the benefit of those nearest, fell silent, and all of them looked alert, excited.

"There's something we need to find," I said. "Something - something that'll help us overthrow She-You-Know. It's here at Dragon Mort, but we don't know where. It might have belonged to Raven-Wings. Has anyone heard of an object like that? Has anyone ever come across something with his raven on it, for instance?"

I looked hopefully towards the little group of Raven-Wings, to Michelle, Teri and Khan, but it was Lincoln who answered, who was now stood next to Kestrel.

"Well, there's his lost diadem. I told you about it, remember, Kiara? The lost diadem of Raven-Wings? Mammy's trying to duplicate it."

"Yeah, but the lost diadem," said Michelle Corn, rolling her eyes, "is _lost_ , Lincoln. That's sort of the point."

"When was it lost?" I asked.

"Centuries ago, they say," said Khan, and my heart sank. "Professor Winds says the diadem vanished with Raven-Wings himself. People have looked, but," he appealed to his fellow Raven-Wings, "nobody's ever found a trace of it, have they?"

They all shook their heads.

"Sorry, but what _is_ a diadem?" asked Chrissie.

"It's a kind of crown," said Teri Boots. "Raven-Wings' was supposed to have magical properties, enhance the wisdom of the wearer."

"Yes, Mamm's Wrackspurt siphons - "

But I cut across Lincoln.

"And none of you have ever seen anything that looks like it?"

They all shook their heads again. I looked at Chris, Sian and Chrissie and my own disappointment was mirrored back at me. An object that had been lost this long, and apparently without trace, did not seem like a good candidate for the Horcrux hidden in the castle … before I could formulate a new question, however, Khan spoke again.

"If you'd like to see what the diadem's supposed to look like, I could take you up to our common room and show you, Kiara? Raven-Wings' wearing it in his statue."

My scar scorched again: for a moment the Room of Needs swam before me, and I saw instead the dark earth soaring beneath Zira and felt the great snake wrapped around her shoulders. Zira was flying again, whether to the underground lake or here, to the castle, I did not know: either way, there was hardly any time left.

"She's on the move," I said quietly to Chris, Sian and Chrissie. I glanced at Khan and then back at them. "Listen, I know it's not much of a lead, but I'm going to go and look at this statue, at least find out what the diadem looks like. Wait for me here and keep, you know - the other one - safe."

Khan got to his feet, but Chris said rather fiercely, "No, Lincoln will take Kiara, won't you, Lincoln?"

"Oooh, yes, I'd like to," said Lincoln happily, and Khan sat down again, looking disappointed.

"How do we get out?" I asked Nikita.

"Over here."

She led Lincoln and I to a corner, where a small cupboard opened on to a steep staircase.

"It comes out somewhere different every day, so they've never been able to find it," she said. "Only trouble is, we never know exactly where we're going to end up when we get out. Be careful, Kiara, they're always patrolling the corridors at night."

"No problem," I said. "See you in a bit."

Lincoln and I hurried up the staircase, which was long, lit by torches and turned corners in unexpected places. At last we reached what appeared to be solid wall.

"Get under here," I told Lincoln, once I had extracted the Invisibility Cloak from the baton and threw it over both of us. I gave the wall a little push.

It melted away at my touch and we slipped outside: I glanced back and saw that it had resealed itself at once. We were standing in a dark corridor: I pulled Lincoln back into the shadows, fumbled in the pouch around my neck and took out the Scallywag's Map. Holding it close to my nose, I searched and located mine and Lincoln's dots at last.

"We're up on the fifth floor," I whispered, watching Match moving away from us, a corner ahead. "Come on, this way."

We crept off.

I had prowled the castle at night many times before, but never had my heart hammered this fast, never had so much depended on my safe passage through the place. Through squares of moonlight upon the floor, past suits of armour whose helmets creaked at the sound of our soft footsteps, around corners beyond which who knew what lurked, Lincoln and I walked, checking the Scallywag's Map whenever light permitted, twice pausing to allow a ghost to pass without drawing attention to ourselves. I expected to encounter an obstacle at any moment; my worst fear was Weeves, and I strained my ears with every step to hear the first, telltale signs of the poltergeist's approach.

"This way, Kiara," breathed Lincoln, plucking my sleeve and pulling me towards a spiral staircase.

We climbed in tight, dizzying circle; I had never been up here before. At last we reached a door. There was no handle and no keyhole: nothing but a plain expanse of aged wood, and a bronze knocker in the shape of a raven.

Lincoln reached out a pale hand, which looked eerie floating in mid-air, unconnected to arm or body. He knocked once, and in the silence it sounded to me like a cannon blast. At once the beak of the raven opened, but instead of a bird's call, a soft, musical voice said, "Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?"

"Hmm … what do you think, Kiara?" said Lincoln, looking thoughtful.

"What? Isn't there just a password?"

"Oh, no, you've got to answer a question," said Lincoln.

"What if you get it wrong?"

"Well, you have to wait for somebody who gets it right," said Lincoln. "That way you learn, you see?"

"Yeah … trouble is, we can't really afford to wait for anyone else, Lincoln."

"No, I see what you mean," said Lincoln seriously. "Well then, I think the answer is that a circle has no beginning."

"Well reasoned," said the voice, and the door swung open.

The deserted Raven-Wings common room was a wide, circular room, airier than I had ever seen at Dragon Mort. Graceful arched windows punctuated the walls, which were hung with blue and bronze silks: by day, the Raven-Wings would have a spectacular view of the surrounding mountains. The ceiling was domed and painted with stars, which were echoed in the midnight-blue carpet. There were tables, chairs and bookcases, and in a niche opposite the door stood a tall statue of white marble.

I recognised Rowan Raven-Wings from the bust I had seen at Lincoln's house. The statue stood beside a door which led, I guessed, to the dormitories above. I strode right up to the marble man and he seemed to look back at me with a quizzical half-smile on his face, handsome yet slightly intimidating. A delicate-looking circlet had been reproduced in marble on top of his head. It was not unlike the tiara Sam had worn at her wedding. There were tiny words etched into it. I stepped out from under the Cloak and climbed up on to Raven-Wings' plinth to read them.

 _"'Knowledge is to power as wit is to love.'"_

"Which makes you pretty worthless, witless," said a cackling voice.

I whirled round, slipped off the plinth and landed on the floor. The sloping-shouldered figure of Abaddon Csintalan was standing before me, and even as I raised my wand, he pressed a stubby forefinger to the squiggly lines brandished on his forearm.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 **The Sacking of Tiana Triphorm**

 **KIARA**

The moment his finger touched the mark, my scar burned savagely, the starry room vanished from sight, and I - no, _she_ \- was standing upon an outcrop of rock beneath a cliff, and the sea was washing around her and there was triumph in her heart - _they have the girl_.

A loud _bang_ brought me back to where I stood: disorientated, I raised my wand, but the wizard before me was already falling forwards; he hit the ground so hard that the glass in the bookshelves tinkled.

"I've never Stunned anyone except in our CA lessons," said Lincoln, sounding mildly interested. "That was noisier than I thought it would be."

And sure enough, the ceiling had begun to tremble. Scurrying, echoing footsteps were growing louder from behind the door leading to the dormitories: Lincoln's spell had woken the Raven-Wings sleeping above.

"Lincoln, where are you? I need to get under the Cloak!"

Lincoln's feet appeared out of nowhere; I hurried to his side and he let the Cloak fall back over us as the door opened and a streak of Raven-Wings, all in their nightclothes, flooded into the common room. There were gasps and cries of surprise as they saw Abbadon lying there unconscious. Slowly, they shuffled around him, a savage beast that might wake at any moment and attack them. Then one brave little first-year darted up to him and prodded his backside with her big toe.

"I think he might be dead!" she shouted with delight.

"Oh, look," whispered Lincoln happily, as the Raven-Wings crowded in around Abbadon. "They're pleased!"

"Yeah … great …"

I closed my eyes, and as my scar throbbed I chose to sink again into Zira's mind … she was moving along the tunnel into the first cave … she had chosen to make sure of the locket before coming … but that would not take her long …

There was a rap on the common room door and every Raven-Wings froze. From the other side, I heard the soft, musical voice that issued from the raven doorknocker: "Where do vanished objects go?"

"I dunno, do I? Shut up!" snarled an uncouth voice that I knew was that of the Csintalan sister, Acantha. "Abbadon? _Abbadon?_ Are you there? Have you got her? Open the door!"

The Raven-Wings were whispering amongst themselves, terrified. Then, without warning, there came a series of loud bangs, as though somebody was firing a gun into the door.

" _ABBADDON!_ If she comes, and we haven't got Pride-Lander - d'you want to go the same way as the Maltys? ANSWER ME!" Acantha screamed, shaking the door for all she was worth, but still, it did not open. The Raven-Wings were all backing away, and some of the most frightened began scampering back up the staircase to their beds. Then, just as I was wondering whether I ought not to blast open the door and Stun Acantha before the Love Destroyer could do anything else, a second, most familiar voice rang out beyond the door.

"May I ask what you are doing, Professor Csintalan?"

"Trying - to get - through this damned - door!" shouted Acantha. "Go and get Winds! Get her to open it, now!"

"But isn't your brother in there?" asked Professor Darbus. "Didn't Professor Winds let him in, earlier this evening, at your urgent request? Perhaps he could open the door for you? Then you needn't wake up half the castle."

"He isn't answering, you old besom! _You_ open it! Garn! Do it, now!"

"Certainly, if you wish it," said Professor Darbus, with awful coldness. There was a genteel tap of the knocker and the musical voice asked, again, "Where do vanished objects go?"

"Into non-being, which is to say, everything," replied Professor Darbus.

"Nicely phrased," replied the raven doorknocker, and the door swung open.

The few Raven-Wings who had remained behind sprinted for the stairs as Acantha burst over the threshold, brandishing her wand. Hunched like her brother, she had a pallid, doughy face and tiny eyes, which fell at once on Abaddon, sprawled motionless on the floor. She let out a scream of fury and fear.

"What've they done, the little whelps?" she screamed. "I'll Cruciate the lot of 'em 'til they tell me who did it - and what's the Scarlet Lady going to say?" she shrieked, standing over her brother and nibbling on her lower lip with worry. "We haven't got her, and they've gorn and killed him!"

"He's only Stunned," said Professor Darbus impatiently, who had stooped down to examine Abaddon. "He'll be perfectly all right."

"No he bludgering well won't!" bellowed Acantha. "Not after the Scarlet Lady gets hold of him! He's gorn and sent for her, I felt me Trail burn, and she thinks we've got Pride-Lander!"

"'Got Pride-Lander'?" said Professor Darbus sharply. "What do you mean, 'got Pride-Lander'?"

"She told us Pride-Lander might try and get inside Raven-Wings Tower, and to send for her if we caught her!"

"Why would Pride-Lander try and get inside Raven-Wings Tower? Pride-Lander belongs in my house!"

Beneath the disbelief and anger, I heard a little strain of pride in her voice, and affection for Deidre Darbus gushed up inside me.

"We was told she might come in here!" said Csintalan. "I dunno why, do I?"

Professor Darbus stood up and her beady eyes swept the room. Twice they passed right over the place where Lincoln and I stood.

"We can push it off on the kids," said Acantha, her pig-like face suddenly crafty. "Yeah, that's what we'll do. We'll say Abaddon was ambushed by the kids, them kids up there," she looked up at the starry ceiling towards the dormitories, "and we'll say they forced him to press his Trail, and that's why he got a false alarm … she can punish them. Couple of kids more or less, what's the difference?"

"Only the difference between truth and lies, courage and cowardice," said Professor Darbus, who had turned pale, "a difference, in short, which you and your brother seem unable to appreciate. But let me make one thing very clear. You are not going to pass off your many ineptitudes on the students of Dragon Mort. I shall not permit it."

"Excuse me?"

Acantha moved forwards until she was offensively close to Professor Darbus, her face within inches of hers. She refused to back away, but looked down at her as if she were something disgusting she had found stuck to a lavatory seat.

"It's not a case of what _you'll_ permit, Deidre Darbus. Your time's over. It's us in charge here now, and you'll back me up or you'll pay the price."

And she spat in her face.

I pulled the Cloak off myself, raised my wand and said, "You shouldn't have done that."

As Acantha spun round, I shouted, _"Crucio!"_

The Love Destroyer was lifted off her feet. She writhed through the air like a drowning woman, thrashing and screeching in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, she smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor.

"I see what Katalina meant," I said, the blood thundering through my brain, "you really need to mean it."

"Pride-Lander!" whispered Professor Darbus, clutching her heart. "Pride-Lander - you're here! What - ? How - ?" She struggled to pull herself together. "Pride-Lander, that was foolish!"

"She spat at you," I said.

"Pride-Lander, I - that was very - very _gallant_ of you - but don't you realise - ?"

"Yeah, I do," I assured her. Somehow her panic steadied me. "Professor Darbus, Zira's on the way."

"Oh, are we allowed to say the name now?" asked Lincoln with an air of interest, pulling off the Invisibility Cloak. This appearance of a second outlaw seemed to overwhelm Professor Darbus, who staggered backwards and fell into a nearby chair, clutching at the neck of her old tartan dressing-gown.

"I don't think it makes any difference what we call her," I told Lincoln, "she already knows where I am."

In a distant part of my brain, that part connected to the angry, burning scar, I could see Zita sailing fast over the dark lake in the ghostly green boat … she had nearly reached the island where the stone basin stood …

"You must flee," whispered Professor Darbus. "Now, Pride-Lander, as quickly as you can!"

"I can't," I said. "There's something I need to do. Professor, do you know where the diadem of Raven-Wings is?"

"The d-diadem of Raven-Wings? Of course not - hasn't it been lost for centuries?" She sat up a little straighter. "Pride-Lander, it was madness, utter madness, for you to enter this castle - "

"I had to," I said. "Professor, there's something hidden here that I'm supposed to find, and it _could_ be the diadem - if I could just speak to Professor Winds - "

There was a sound of movement, a clinking of glass: Acantha was coming round. Before Lincoln or I could act, Professor Darbus rose to her feet, pointed her wand at the groggy Love Destroyer and said, _"Imperio."_

Acantha got up, walked over to her brother, picked up his wand, then shuffled obediently to Professor Darbus and handed it over along with her own. then she lay down on the floor beside Abbadon. Professor Darbus waved her wand again, and a length of shimmering silver rope appeared out of thin air and snaked around the Csintalans, binding them tightly together.

"Pride-Lander," said Professor Darbus, turning to face me again with superb indifference to the Csintalans' predicament, "if She Who Must Not Be Named does indeed know that you are here - "

As she said it, a wrath that was like physical pain blazed through me, setting my scar on fire, and for a second I looked down upon a basin whose potion had turned clear, and saw that no silver locket lay safe beneath the surface -

"Pride-Lander, are you all right?" said a voice, and I came back: I was clutching Lincoln's shoulder to steady myself.

"Time's running out, Zira's getting nearer. Professor, I'm acting on Crighton's orders, I must find what she wanted me to find! But we've got to get the students out while I'm searching the castle - it's me Zira wants, but she won't care about killing a few more or less, not now - " _Not now she knows I'm attacking Horcruxes_ , I finished the sentence in my head.

"You're acting on _Crighton's_ order?" she repeated, with a look of dawning wonder. Then she drew herself up to her fullest height.

"We shall secure the school against She Who Must Not Be Names while you search for this - this object."

"Is that possible?"

"I think so," said Professor Darbus drily, "we teachers are rather good at magic, you know. I am sure we will be able to hold her off for a while if we all put our best efforts into it. Of course, something will have to be done about Professor Triphorm - "

"Let me - "

" - and if Dragon Mort is about to enter a state of siege, with the Scarlet Lady at the gates, it would indeed be advisable to take as many innocent people out of the way as possible. With the Floo Network under observation and Apparition impossible within the grounds - "

"There's a way," I said quickly, and I explained about the passageway leading into the Dragon's Eye.

"Pride-Lander, we're talking about hundreds of students - "

"I know, Professor, but if Zira and the Love Destroyers are concentrating on the school boundaries they won't be interested in anyone who's Disapparating out of the Dragon's Eye."

"There's something in that," she agreed. She pointed her wand at the Csintalans, and a silver net fell upon their bound bodies, tied itself around them and hoisted them into the air, where thy dangled beneath the blue and gold ceiling, like two large, ugly sea creatures. "Come. We must alert the other Heads of House. You'd better put that Cloak back on."

She marched towards the door, and as she did so she raised her wand. From the tip burst three silver cats with spectacle markings around their eyes. The Patronuses ran sleekly ahead, filling the spiral staircase with silvery lights, as Professor Darbus, Lincoln and I hurried back down.

Along the corridors we raced, and one by one the Patronuses left us; Professor Darbus' tartan dressing-gown rustled over the floor and Lincoln and I jogged behind her under the Cloak.

We had descended two more floors when another set of quiet footsteps joined our. I, with my scar still prickling, heard them first: I felt in the pouch around my neck for the Scallywag's Map, but before I could take it out, Darbus, too, seemed to become aware of our company. She halted, raised her wand ready to duel, and said, "Who's there?"

"It is I," said a low voice.

From behind a suit of armour stepped Tiana Triphorm.

Hatred boiled up in me at the sight of her: I had forgotten the details of Triphorm's appearance in the magnitude of her crimes, forgotten how her greasy, strawberry-blonde hair hung in curtains around her thin face, how her ice-blue eyes had a dead, cold look. She was not wearing nightclothes, but was dressed in her usual red cloak and she, too, was holding her wand ready for a fight.

"Where are the Csintalans?" she asked quietly.

"Wherever you told them to be, I expect, Tiana," said Professor Darbus.

Triphorm stepped nearer, and her eyes flitted over Professor Darbus into the air around her, as if she knew that I was there. I held up my wand too, ready to attack.

"I was under the impression," said Triphorm, "that Abbadon had apprehended an intruder."

"Really?" said Professor Darbus. "And what gave you that impression?"

Triphorm made a slight flexing movement of her left arm, where the Death Trail was branded into her skin.

"Oh, but naturally," said Professor Darbus. "You Love Destroyers have your own private means of communication, I forgot."

Triphorm pretended not to have heard her. Her eyes were still probing the air all about her and she was moving gradually closer, with an air of hardly noticing what she was doing.

"I did not know that it was your night to patrol the corridors, Deidre."

"You have some objection?"

"I wonder what could have brought you out of your bed at this late hour?"

"I thought I heard a disturbance," said Professor Darbus.

"Really? But all seems calm."

Triphorm looked into her eyes.

"Have you seen Kiara Pride-Lander, Deidre? Because if you have, I must insist - "

Professor Darbus moved faster than I could have believed her: her wand slashed through the air and for a split second I thought that Triphorm must crumple, unconscious, but the swiftness of her Shield Charm was such that Darbus was thrown off balance. She brandished her wand at a torch on the wall and it flew out of its bracket: I had been about to curse Triphorm, but instead I was forced to pull Lincoln out of the way out of the descending flames, which became a ring of fire that filled the corridor and flew like a lasso at Triphorm -

Then it was no longer fire, but a great, black serpent that Darbus blasted to smoke, which reformed and solidified in seconds to become a swarm of pursuing daggers: Triphorm avoided them only by forcing the suit of armour in front of her, and with echoing clangs the daggers sank, one after another, into its breast -

"Deidre!" said a squeaky voice, and looking behind me, still shielding Lincoln from flying spells, I saw Professors Winds and Spud sprinting up the corridor towards us in their nightclothes, with the tall, bony figure of Professor Beadu panting along at the rear.

"No!" squeaked Winds, raising her wand. "You'll do no more murder at Dragon Mort!"

Winds' spell hit the suit of armour behind which Triphorm had taken shelter: with a clatter it came to life. Triphorm struggled free of the crushing arms and sent it flying back towards her attackers: Lincoln and I had to dive sideways to avoid it as it smashed into the wall and shattered. When I looked up again, Triphorm was in full flight, Darbus, Winds and Spud all thundering after her: Triphorm hurried through a classroom door and, moments later, I heard Darbus cry, "Coward! _COWARD!_ "

"What's happened, what's happened?" asked Lincoln.

I dragged him to his feet and we raced along the corridor, trailing the Invisibility Cloak behind us, into the deserted classroom where Professors Darbus, Winds and Spud were standing at a smashed window.

"She jumped," said Professor Darbus, as Lincoln and I ran into the room.

"You mean she's _dead_?" I sprinted to the window, ignoring Winds and Spud's yells of shock at my sudden appearance.

"No, she's not dead," said Darbus bitterly. "Unlike Crighton, she was still carrying a wand … and she seems to have learned a few tricks from her mistress."

With a tingle of horror, I saw in the distance a huge, bat-like shape flying through the darkness towards the perimeter wall.

There were light footfalls behind us, and a great deal of puffing: Beadu had just caught up.

"Kiara!" she panted, leaning against the doorway, her hand over her heart beneath her emerald-green silk dressing-gown. "My dear girl … what a surprise … Deidre, do explain … Tiana … what …?"

"Our Headmistress is taking a short break," said Professor Darbus, pointing at the Triphorm-shaped hole in the window.

"Professor!" I shouted, my hands at my forehead. I could see the Inferi-filled lake sliding beneath me - no, _her_ \- and she felt the ghostly green boat bump into the underground shore, and Zira leapt from it with murder in her heart -

"Professor, we've got to barricade the school, she's coming now!"

"Very well. She Who Must Not Be Named is coming," she told the other teachers. Spud and Winds gasped; Beadu let out a low groan. "Pride-Lander has work to do in the castle on Crighton's orders. We need to put in place every protection of which we are capable, while Pride-Lander does what she needs to do."

"You realise, of course, that nothing we do will be able to keep out She-You-Know indefinitely?" squeaked Winds.

"But we can hold her up," said Spud.

"Thank you, Spud," said Professor Darbus, and between the witch and wizard there passed a look of grim understanding. "I suggest we establish basic protection around the place, then gather our students and meet in the Great Hall. Most must be evacuated, though if any of those who are over-age wish to stay and fight, I think they ought to be given the chance."

"Agreed," said Spud, already hurrying towards the door. "I shall meet you in the Great Hall in twenty minutes with my house."

And as he jogged out of sight, we could hear him muttering, "Tentacula. Devil's Snare. And Snargaluff pods … yes, I'd like to see the Love Destroyers fighting those."

"I can act from here," said Winds, and although she could barely see out of it, she pointed her wand through the smashed window and started muttering incantations of great complexity. I heard a weird rushing noise, as though Winds had unleashed the actual power of the wind into the grounds.

"Professor," I said, approaching the little Charms mistress, "Professor, I'm sorry yo interrupt, but this is important. Have you got any idea where the diadem of Raven-Wings is?"

" … _Protego horribilis_ \- the diadem of Raven-Wings?" squeaked Professor Winds. "A little extra wisdom never goes amiss, Pride-Lander, but I hardly think it would be much use in _this_ situation!"

"I only meant - do you know where it is? Have you ever seen it?"

"Seen it? Nobody has seen it in living memory! Long since lost, girl!"

I felt a mixture of desperate disappointment and panic. What, then, was the Horcrux?

"We shall meet you and your fellow Raven-Wings in the Great Hall, Wanda!" said Professor Darbus, beckoning Lincoln and I to follow her.

We had just reached the door when Beadu rumbled into speech.

"My word," she puffed, pale and sweaty, scraping her bottom lip with her teeth. "What a to-do! I'm not at all sure whether this is wise, Deidre. She is bound to find a way in, you know, and anyone who has tried to delay her will be in most grievous peril - "

"I shall expect you and the Snake-Eyes in the Great Hall in twenty minutes, also," said Professor Darbus. "If you wish to leave with your students, we shall not stop you. But if any of you attempt to sabotage our resistance, or take up arms against us within this castle, then, Arachne, we duel to kill."

"Deidre!" she said, aghast.

"The time has come for Snake-Eyes House to decide upon its loyalties," interrupted Professor Darbus. "Go and wake up your students, Arachne."

I did not stay to watch Beadu splutter: Lincoln and I ran after Professor Darbus, who had taken up a position in the middle of the corridor and raised her wand.

" _Piertotum_ \- oh, for heaven's sake, Match, not _now_ \- "

The aged caretaker had just come hobbling into view, shouting, "Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!"

"They're supposed to be out of bed, you lumbering, blithering idiot!" shouted Darbus. "Now go and do something constructive! Find Weeves!"

"W-Weeves?" stammered Match, as though he had never heard the name before.

"Yes, _Weeves_ , you fool, _Weeves_! Haven't you been complaining about her for almost a quarter of a century? Go and find her, at once!"

Match evidently thought Professor Darbus had taken leave of her senses, but hobbled away, hunch-shouldered, muttering under his breath.

"And now - _piertotum locomotor_!" cried Professor Darbus.

And all along the corridor the statues and suits of armour jumped down from their plinths, and from the echoing crashes from the floors above and below, I knew that their fellows throughout the castle had done the same.

"Dragon Mort is threatened!" shouted Professor Darbus. "Man the boundaries, protect us, do your duty to our school!"

Clattering and yelling, the horde of moving statues, stampeded past me: some of them smaller, others larger than life. There were animals too, and the clanking suits of armour brandished swords and spiked balls on chains.

"Now, Pride-Lander," said Darbus, "you and Mr Lovedream had better return to your friends and bring them to the Great Hall - I shall rouse the other Lion-Hearts."

We parted at the top of the next staircase: Lincoln and I running back towards the concealed entrance to the Room of Needs. As we ran, we met crowds of students, most wearing travelling cloaks over their pyjamas, being shepherded down to the Great Hall by teachers and Prefects.

"That was Pride-Lander!"

 _"Kiara Pride-Lander!"_

"It was her, I swear, I just saw her!"

But I did not look back, and at last we reached the entrance to the Room of Needs. I leaned against the enchanted wall, which opened to admit us, and Lincoln and I sped back down the steep staircase.

"Wh- ?"

As the Room came into view, I slipped down a few stairs in shock. It was packed, far more crowded than when I had last been there. Kara, Kopa, Meers and my parents were looking up at me, as were Olivia Cane, Keith Ball, Andrew Johnstone and Alex Spinns, and Sam and Ferdinand.

"Kiara, what's happening?" said my father, meeting me at the foot of the stairs.

"Zira's on her way, they're barricading the school - Triphorm's run for it - what are you doing here? How did you know?"

"We sent messages to the rest of Crighton's Army," Tanya explained. "You couldn't expect everyone to miss the fun, Kiara, and the CA let the Order of the Centaur know, and it all kind of snowballed."

"What first, Kiara?" called Geri. "What's going on?"

"They're evacuating the younger kids and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organised," I said. "We're fighting."

There was a great roar and a surge towards the foot of the stairs; I was pressed back against the wall as they ran past me, the mingled members of the Order of the Centaur, Crighton's Army and my old Quidditch team, all with their wands drawn, heading up into the main castle.

"Come on, Lincoln," Dena called as she passed, holding out her free hand; he took it and followed her back up the stairs.

The crowd was thinning: only a little knot of people remained below in the Room of Needs and I joined them. And as I looked around, I saw -

"Grandmother Sarabi!" I called in joy, surprise and relief as I ran to her, for I never thought I would see her again. I embraced her with such force that she staggered a little, but she quickly regained her balance as she hugged me back.

"Oh, my darling!" she cried happily, laughing at the same time. "Oh, I'm so happy to see you! I've missed you so!"

"I've missed you too, Grandmother," I told her happily. I pulled back a little, enough to see her face, and said, a little confused, "Don't get me wrong, Grandmother, I'm happy you're here, but I thought you were in a safe house with - "

"I was, and I have stayed with them all these months, worrying about you constantly, as has Sarafina," she reassured me. "She, Mavuto, Frank and Carol all send you their love, by the way. But I had to come. As soon as I got the message, I just _had_ to come to your aid."

"Why?" I said childishly.

Grandmother Sarabi chuckled, cupped my face in her hands and said, "Because you're too precious to lose, sweetie."

We hugged again. When we let go, it was then that I noticed the man standing behind Grandmother Sarabi, a man I had never seen before. He was tall, muscular and broad shouldered, and his skin was dark and quite grey, suggesting he hadn't seen the sun in a very long time. He had a shaggy beard and long shaggy hair, both of which were copper coloured, but the beard did nothing to hide his strong chin. He had a long nose and almond eyes, which were green, the same forest green colour as -

"Who are you?" I asked.

The man smiled and said, "I am sure you know, Miss Pride-Lander."

I gasped, although I do not know why I was so surprised that he knew me. He chuckled at my shocked expression and said, "Alexander Charles Rickers, at your service, Kiara."

"Chris' father?" I asked. He nodded. I looked at him confusedly as I asked him, "But I don't understand … Chris told us that you had disappeared many years ago, and many people assumed you to be - "

"Dead? Yes, well, that's what I let them think," Mr Rickers explained, his expression turning sad. "I hated to stay away, but it was the only way I could keep my family safe." He then sighed deeply as he added, "Well, maybe not as safe as I thought, seeing what happened to my Amelia, my darling wife, but at least my son found a good home with the Dawsons, and," he added, smirking at me slyly, "with you too, as a little bridie has told me."

I blushed under his smirk, as Mr Dawson approached him, laughed and said, "I might have told him a thing or two about yours and Chris' relationship, Kiara."

"Yes, and I couldn't be more happier for my son than to be with you, my dear," said Mr Rickers, smiling at me fondly, "and I hope that when all this is over that you and he will be very happy together. For after all I've heard about you, I'm glad he's found you."

"Thank you, sir," I said. I then turned to my mother and father, who had stayed behind, and were both looking at me patiently. I ran to them and hugged them both fiercely, happy to see them alive and well after all this time.

When we finally let go of each other, I realised that someone was missing.

"Where's Kion? Is he all right?"

"Don't worry 'bout 'im, Miss Pride-Lander," said a familiar Cockney voice behind me. "Your brother's safe with me missus and me little 'un."

"Joey!" I said, turning to face the man himself. "It's good to see you again."

"And you, Miss, and you," he said, and he gave me a swift kiss on the cheek, which made me blush and giggle.

"Joey!" said another voice close by: Sian, who had finally let go of Kopa once she heard Joey's voice had come rushing over to us.

"All righ', Miss D?" he said, a soft fondness in his eye as he looked at Sian. "I'm glad to see you in better health now, Miss, than you was las' time I saw you."

"Thanks, Joey," said Sian, smiling up at him. "I'm much better, as you can see - but it's not just the outer parts of me that have been healed, you know."

"I'm very glad to 'ear that, Miss," said Joey, inclining his head.

"As am I," said a deep voice behind us.

Joey stepped aside swiftly, and I saw that it was Mr Dawson who had spoken, who had eyes for no one but his firstborn, which were shining with nothing but love for her, and as soon as Sian spotted him, he opened his arms out wide.

"Dad!" Sian cried, and she ran into her father's arms, which wrapped around her like a vice.

"Hello, Siany!" he said into her hair, kissing the crown of her head. "Ooh, I've missed you!"

"I know, Dad," said Sian, her voice slightly muffled as her face was half-hidden in her father's jacket. "I've missed you, too, as well as myself."

Hearing this, Mr Dawson kissed Sian's crown again. Then he stepped back to look at her properly. After studying her for about a minute, he cupped her face and said, "You really are back, aren't you?" Sian nodded, and father and daughter hugged again.

The moment was broken, however, by a chorus of "Dad! Dad! Dad!" coming from Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max, Ben and Dave, who had rushed over to them. Mr Dawson and Sian shared a smile before turning to the rest of their breed, smiles still on their faces.

Unfortunately, the good feeling did not last long.

"Dad, can we join in the fighting, too?" said Max, to a chorus of "please"'s and "can we"'s from the others.

Mr Dawson's smile faded at once to be replaced by a serious expression.

"Absolutely out of the question," he said sternly.

Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max, Ben and Dave were not happy with this at all. They cried out over each other at once.

"Aww!"

"How come?"

"I really wanted to fight!"

"This blows!"

"This is so unfair!"

"If you didn't want us to fight tonight, Dad, then why are we here?" asked Merida grimly.

At this, Sian turned to her father, her face a mask of pure fury.

"You _brought_ them here?" she yelled.

Watching this, I found it hard to keep a straight face at seeing Sian's fiery side.

Mr Dawson seemed to think the same as me, for I saw his lips twitch slightly as he looked at Sian, but he sobered up quickly and said, "Look, the only reason I brought them with me was to keep them here, in the Room, so that if anything happens to any of us, they won't be kept up all night at home, worrying if any of us are dead."

Sian's fury slowly washed away as she took in what her father had just told her. After a while she nodded and said, "That sounds reasonable." And when her siblings argued against it, Sian said quickly, "Guys, I'm sorry, but this is the only way we can ensure your safety while - "

There was a scuffling sound and a great thump: someone else had clambered out of the tunnel, overbalanced slightly and fallen. She pulled herself up on the nearest chair, looked around through lopsided hornrimmed glasses and said, "Am I too late? Has it started? I only just found out, so I - I - "

Perdy spluttered into silence. Evidently she had not expected to run into most of her family. There was a long moment of astonishment, broken by Ferdinand turning to Meers and saying, in a wildly transparent attempt to break the tension, "So - 'ow eez leetle Teemy?"

Meers blinked at him, startled. The silence between the Dawsons seemed to be solidifying, like ice.

"I - oh yes - he's fine!" Meers said loudly. "Yes, Todd is with him - at her mother's."

Perdy and the other Dawsons were still staring at one another, frozen.

"Here, I've got a picture!" Meers shouted, pulling a photograph from inside is jacket and showing it to Grandmother Sarabi, my parents, Ferdinand, Mr Rickers and I, who saw a tiny baby with a tuft of bright turquoise hair, waving fat fists at the camera.

"I was a fool!" Perdy roared, so loudly that Meers nearly dropped his photograph. "I was an idiot, I was a pompous prat, I was a - a - "

"Ministry-loving, family-disowning, power-hungry moron," said Tanya.

Perdy swallowed.

"Yes, I was!"

"Well, you can't say fairer than that," said Tanya, holding out her arms to Perdy.

As Perdy moved in to embrace her sister, Sian stood in front of her. Perdy stopped, surprised, and looked at Sian nervously. As Sian stepped up slowly to Perdy, Perdy said, "Sian, I'm sorry. You were right, about everything. I shouldn't have turned my back on Aunt Sue when I did. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but if you can find it in your heart to - "

"Perdy!" said Sian forcefully, stopping Perdy's blabbering. Perdy looked at Sian, and was surprised to see how gentle she looked. Sian then shook her head slightly and said, "What took you so long?"

And that was all it took for Sian and Perdy to run and hug each other like sisters. Still hugging Sian, Perdy's eyes found her uncle's.

"I'm sorry, Uncle!" Perdy said.

Mr Dawson blinked rather rapidly, then he, too, hurried to hug his niece.

"What made you see sense, Perd?" enquired Geri.

"It's been going on for a while," said Perdy, mopping her eyes under her glasses with a corner of her travelling cloak. "But I had to find a way out and it's not so easy at the Ministry, they're imprisoning traitors all the time. I managed to make contact with Aunt Sara and she tipped me off ten minutes ago that Dragon Mort was going to make a fight of it, so here I am."

"Well, we do look to our Prefects to take a lead at times such as these," said Geri, in a good imitation of Perdy's most pompous manner. "Now, let's get upstairs and fight, or all the good Love Destroyers'll be taken."

"So, you're my brother-in-law now?" said Perdy, shaking hands with Ferdinand as they hurried off towards the staircase with Sam, Tanya and Geri.

"Kestrel! Merida! Max!" barked Sian.

Kestrel, Merida and Max had been attempting, under cover of the reconciliation, to sneak upstairs too.

"You three - and the rest of you," Sian added to Beth, Joe, Jack, Ben and Dave, " - are staying here! No arguments!"

The eight of them did not seem to like this idea much, but under their elder sister's familiar stern eye, they nodded.

As Mr Dawson, Mr Rickers, Meers, my parents, Grandmother Sarabi and Kopa headed off for the stairs too, I realised that two people were missing.

"Where's Chris?" I asked. "Where's Chrissie?"

"They must have gone down to the Great Hall already," Mr Dawson called over his shoulder.

"I didn't see them pass me," I said.

"They went to the Chamber of Mysteries," Sian whispered in my ear.

I looked at her, surprised.

"Are you sure that's where they went?"

Sian nodded.

"But what would they want down there?"

"Lizsnabadra fangs," answered Sian simply.

"Lizsnaba - what?" I said, taken aback by this.

"To destroy the cup," Sian explained. "The same way I destroyed Dizra Maliay's diary. Chrissie thought of it, we discussed it, I handed them the cup, they took a couple of broomsticks and off they went. I decided to stay here to wait for you."

"Thanks," I said shortly. I did not know how to feel about Chris and Chrissie wandering off to the Chamber of Mysteries when I needed them, even if they did have a Horcrux to destroy. However, one thing did not make sense.

"Wait, how did Chris and Chrissie get in there? Only a Parshydamouth can get into the Chamber."

"Kiara, this plan was formed in _Chrissie's_ mind," said Sian, rolling her eyes. "Most of what she thinks isn't well thought out."

I thought that this was a good point. But then my scar seared and the Room of Needs vanished: she was looking through the high, wrought-iron gates, with winged boars on pillars at either side, looking through the dark grounds towards the castle, which was ablaze with lights. Namzo lay draped over her shoulders. She was possessed of that cold, cruel sense of purpose that preceded murder.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: So, here is the next chapter. I have edited this quite a bit today and I was supposed to have Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione in the last chapter, but I forgot to add them, so here they are instead. No, Hermione is NOT dead, as I know many of you will be happy about, and you will have to read on to find out why. Also, Sian makes a rather impressive speech in this chapter - well, I hope it's impressive, anyway - and gets an outfit change, fit for a warrior. Enjoy this chapter.**

 **Chapter 10**

 **The Battle of Dragon Mort**

 **KIARA**

The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall was dark and scattered with stars, and below it the four long house tables were lines with dishevelled students, some in travelling cloaks, others in dressing-gowns. Here and there shone the pearly-white figures of the school ghosts. Every eye, living and dead, was fixed upon Professor Darbus, who was speaking from the raised platform at the top of the Hall. Behind her stood the remaining teachers, including the palomino centaur, Fauna, and the members of the Order of the Centaur who had arrived to fight.

" … evacuation will be overseen by Mr Match and Matron. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organise your house and take your charges, in an orderly fashion, to the evacuation point."

Many of the students looked petrified. However, as I skirted the walls, scanning the Lion-Heart table for Chris and Chrissie, with Sian right behind me, Emily Mac stood up at the Badger-Stripes table and shouted, "And what if we want to stay and fight?"

There was a smattering of applause.

"If you are of age, you may stay," said Professor Darbus.

"What about our things?" called a boy at the Raven-Wings table. "Our trunks, our owls?"

"We have no time to collect possessions," said Professor Darbus. "The important thing is to get you out of here safely."

"Where's Professor Triphorm?" shouted a boy from the Snake-Eyes table.

"She has, to use the common phrase, done a bunk," replied Professor Darbus, and a great cheer erupted from the Lion-Heart, Badger-Stripes and Raven-Wings.

Sian and I moved up the Hall alongside the Lion-Heart table, still looking for Chris and Chrissie. As I passed, faces turned in our direction, and a great deal of whispering broke out in our wake.

"We have already placed protection around the castle, "Professor Darbus was saying, "but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your Prefects - "

But her final words were drowned as a different voice echoed through the Hall. It was cold, high and clear: there was no telling from where it came; it seemed to issue from the walls themselves. Like the monster it had once commanded, it might have lay dormant there for centuries.

"I know that you are preparing to fight." There were screams amongst the students, some of whom clutched each other, looking around in terror for the source of the sound. "Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Dragon Mort. I do not want to spill magical blood."

There was silence in the Hall now, the kind of silence that presses against the eardrums, that seems too huge to be contained by walls.

"Give me Kiara Pride-Lander," said Zira's voice, "and none shall be harmed. Give me Kiara Pride-Lander, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Kiara Pride-Lander, and you will be rewarded.

"You have until midnight."

The silence swallowed us all again. Every head turned, every eye in the place seemed to have found me, to hold me frozen in the glare of thousands of invisible beams. Then a figure rose from the Snake-Eyes table and I recognise Parry Parker as he raised a shaking arm and screamed, "But she's there! Pride-Lander's _there_! Someone grab her!"

Before I could speak, there was a massive movement. The Lion-Hearts in front of me had risen and stood facing, not me, but the Snake-Eyes. Then the Badger-Stripes stood, and, almost at the same moment, the Raven-Wings, all of them with their backs to me, all of them looking towards Parry instead, and I, awestruck and overwhelmed, saw wands emerging everywhere, pulled from beneath cloaks and from under sleeves.

"Thank you, Mr Parker," said Professor Darbus in a clipped voice. "You will leave the Hall first with Mr Match. If the rest of your house could follow."

I heard the grinding of benches and then the sound of the Snake-Eyes trooping out on the other side of the Hall.

"Badger-Stripes, follow on!" cried Professor Darbus.

Slowly the four tables emptied. The Snake-Eyes table was completely deserted, but a number of older Raven-Wings remained seated while their fellows filed out: even more Badger-Stripes stayed behind, and half of Lion-Heart remained in their seats, necessitating Professor Darbus' descent from the teachers' platform to chivvy the underage on their way.

"Absolutely not, McCreevey, go! _And_ you, Peet!"

Looking around the partially empty Lion-Heart table now, I could see no sign of Chris and Chrissie, which must have meant that they were down in the Chamber of Mysteries after all. But I was distracted by terrified mutterings all around the Hall: despite what had just happened, Zira's message must have really got into their heads. Before anyone could do anything, Sian ran to the teachers' platform and, standing on Professor Darbus' recently vacated spot, Sian clapped her hands once and said loudly, "Listen well, all of you!"

Her strong voice rang through the Hall, and just like it had been with Professor Darbus, all eyes were fixed upon Sian, some shocked, others curious, intrigued. Sian, unused to having so many eyes fixed on her, staggered for a moment, but she quickly recovered.

"I see that you are all afraid, and you know what? So am I. I may not look or sound it, but I am, and I would consider all of you fools if you weren't, but you should not let your fear hold you back from fighting. For when we fight tonight, we fight for our friends and family who are already dead or else in hiding, our freedom, our dignity and our lives! But those aren't the only reasons we should all fight, oh no ...

"Consider this school, for instance," she said, holding her arms out wide and looking around the Hall. "This once great school, where laugher and love once ran freely through the corridors, a place that all of us loved, and still love despite its many changes. And now look at it …" Sian's face darkened as an angry look covered her face. "A school for the Dark Arts, which none of us wanted to happen - and yet, here we are. So fight to get this school back to the amazing place we all knew it once was for all to live in, and let's fight to make Dragon Mort that place again.

"And let's not forget my mother," Sian went on, her voice turning softer, quite sadder now, "Susan Crighton, quite possibly the greatest Headmistress this school has ever had, who gave her life and her love for this school to try and protect us in some way. So fight, not just for her, but so we can get a Head that will take our school back to those happier, better times once more."

As Sian spoke, I could see everyone hanging on attentively to Sian's every word, and I saw some looking at each other, nodding their heads, becoming more and more roused by every word Sian spoke, and the whole Hall seemed to buzz with anticipation. Even I was enraptured by the words she spoke. However, her next words caught me off guard.

"Fight for Kiara and her family!" Sian called suddenly, and many eyes flickered to where my parents, Grandmother Sarabi and I were before turning back to Sian. "Many of you know how desperately they have wanted to become whole again. Well, tonight that could possibly well happen. Fight for them!"

As Sian finished, her eyes found mine. I smiled and nodded at her. She nodded at me, and then turned her attention back to everyone else, her expression turning harsh and angry again.

"So, after all that, if any of you decide to let your fear get the better of you and decide to not help us fight, despite you all _claiming_ to have been behind Kiara all these months she, Chris, Chrissie and I have been gone, then that means you haven't really showed your loyalty to us at all. Cowardice and disloyalty, that's what that is … COWARDICE AND DISLOYALTY!" Sian barked, making everyone jump, as her sharp eyes bore into all of ours.

"So now's the chance to prove ourselves, my friends. Now's the chance for us to go out there, show the Evil Scary People just what we're made of, stand up and fight for what we believe in and say, 'you don't own me'. So let's go out there, put our fighting masks on, and show them, and the world, that love is the greater power, and that good justice still lives on and can indeed conquer all!"

There were cheers, shouts and applause at Sian's words: Professor Darbus, who was standing close by, had nothing but pride in her eyes as she looked at Sian, as was Kara, whom Sian shared a smile with.

But then, a bright white light shone at the end of the Hall, which made the noise fall at once as every head in the Great Hall turned towards the light: some were looking at it nervously, others took out their wands, holding them cautiously with trembling hands. I did not know what this was, but something told me that this had nothing to do with Zira …

And then out of the light stepped forth a girl with a heart-shaped face, almond-shaped eyes the colour of sapphires, long light blonde hair that was split into two plaits that were held in place by large silver hoops that lay in front of her sky blue robes. A messy fringe covered her forehead, stopping before her eyes, and on top of her head lay a silver tiara with an amethyst in the centre. The girl's eyes surveyed the Hall in wonder, as many lowered their wands and looked relaxed - until an army of large, boulder-like men stepped through the bright portal, who were all blue skinned, with sharp pointed teeth, and sharp grey horns and bumps covering their faces. They were clothed in some kind of heavy armour and were carrying spears that, instead of having arrow heads, would occasionally spark a sort of purple magical charge.

Once the last blue soldier had come through, the white light faded, and the soldiers were lined up behind the girl, all of them taking in the Hall with wide eyes, like they had never seen such a place before. Unfortunately, this was broken by many of the students, who had raised their wands in terror: the blue soldiers, sensing hostility, made to move in front of the girl protectively, but before either group could strike first, Sian cried, "Stop!"

All eyes were on Sian again as she rushed down from the teachers' platform and stood in front of the blue army, facing the rest of us. Seeing the confused looks on many of our faces, she explained, "They're not here to hurt us, they're here to help us. Isn't that right … Elyon?"

Sian turned to face the girl as the soldiers parted for her to step through, and she smiled warmly at Sian and said, "That's right, Sian, we are." Then, addressing the others in the Hall, she added, "Hey, everyone. Many of you will not remember me, but I am so glad to be back here, for you see, I - "

"Miss Brown?" whispered Professor Darbus suddenly, and despite her voice being hushed it carried around the silent Hall. But at the mention of Elyon's surname, many people looked round at Larry, who looked confused.

"What're you all looking at me for?" he said indignantly. "She's not my sister!"

Meanwhile, Elyon was smiling at Professor Darbus. "Yes, ma'am, it's me," she said, as Sian hugged her.

Letting go of her friend shortly, Sian said, "The Oracle sent you here, didn't he?"

Elyon nodded. "He knew you needed help tonight, so - here we are."

Sian smiled at Elyon before turning back to the teachers' podium, where her eyes locked with Kara, who nodded and stepped forwards on to the raised platform to address us all.

"We've only got half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast! A battle plan has been agreed by the teachers of Dragon Mort and the Order of the Centaur. Professors Winds, Spud, and Darbus are going to take groups of fighter up to the highest Towers - Raven-Wings, Astronomy and Lion-Heart - where they'll have a good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells. Meanwhile, Timon," she indicated Meers, "Matthew," she pointed towards Mr Dawson, sitting at the Lion-Heart table, "and I will take groups into the grounds. We'll need somebody to organise defence of the entrances of the passageways into the school - "

" - sounds like a job for us," called Tanya, indicating herself and Geri, and Kara nodded her approval.

"All right, leaders up here and we'll divide the troops!"

"Sian!" said Kopa, rushing over to Sian and I; many people stopped to look our way again as he ran.

"What is it, Kopa?" she asked, placing her hands delicately in his.

Kopa looked at her for a while, his eyes taking in every inch of her. Sian watched him closely, but still he did not speak.

"Kopa, please, talk to me," she said at last. "You're scaring - "

"I can't lose you again!" Kopa blurted suddenly, taking Sian by surprise.

"Lose me?" What are you - ?"

"I almost saw you die, Sian," Kopa said brokenly, lowering his gaze, "It almost killed me, seeing you like that. It was horrible, and not something I want to go through again any time soon."

Sian looked startled by his confession, but then a sweet smile graced her lips.

"Kopa, look at me," she said gently, and when he didn't, Sian cupped his clothed face in between her hands and forced his eyes to meet hers again.

"Kopa, I know you're scare of losing me, just as I am of losing you. But Kiara needs my help. I can't put that aside by putting my own selfish needs for you first. Surely you must understand that?"

"But I - "

"I know, Kopa," Sian said, still smiling gently at him. "But we will always have each other, no matter what happens." And when Kopa still looked unconvinced, she added, "You've been strong all these months we've been apart, Kopa, now you need to be strong to let me go again."

Kopa's eyes seemed to water at Sian's words, for he said, his voice cracking slightly, "I love you, Sian."

"I love you, too," she said, falling into his arms.

Many people were watching the young lovers now, including Mr Dawson, who was watching them strangely, like they were a puzzle he could not figure out.

"Hey, Sian!" Elyon cried, once she and Kopa had let go of each other.

"Yes, Elyon?"

"I have something for you from the Oracle," she said, and out of her pocket she pulled out three long ribbons, one brown, one black and one purple.

Sian looked confused, yet intrigued, as she started to walk towards Elyon, but before she could go far I said, "Sian, are you sure about this? It could be dangerous!"

Sian turned to me and said, "It's from the Oracle, Kiara. He could never hurt me."

And with that, Sian turned back to Elyon and walked towards her, stopping right in front of her. Elyon took a few steps back before throwing all three ribbons at Sian's feet.

At once, the three ribbons began to wrap themselves around Sian's body, rising swiftly upwards, covering her entirely from head to foot. Many people screamed in shock, as some pointed their wands at the blue army again, but were stopped by the threatening looks on their faces.

But just as quickly as the ribbons had surrounded her, they unwrapped quickly, starting from her feet and rising, and as the ribbons unwound they created a battle armour of some kind. We all gasped, looking at the outfit the Oracle had made especially for her: black-laced black boots covered her feet; the skirt was a normal, floating black one, covered by a black pleated piece of armour that wasn't altogether held tightly, so that when Sian moved, the four pieces lifted and moved with her, and on top of this was a brown belt with what looked like many Celtic patterns on it, and the belt had a kind of long tie on it that fell down her front, right down to the bottom of the skirt. The top of her gear was purple and shiny with a square neckline and had long sleeves, which was covered by black strips of leather that covered part of her hands, starting just below the wrist and ending round about the middle of her forearm. To top it all off, the ensemble was completed by the brown, black and purple ribbons tying Sian's hair in back in a high ponytail, and the ribbons reached just short of the floor. The phoenix pendant still gleamed like a silver beacon on her chest as Sian drew her wand.

Many people gasped in awe as Sian looked down and studied herself, turning her hands over and looking at her feet, feeling the materials before twirling around, laughing to herself. Beautiful yet intimidating, that's how Sian looked to me, as it should be, I suppose.

When she had stopped studying herself, Sian gave Elyon a grateful smile and said, "Thank you, Elyon."

Elyon waved a hand and said, "Don't thank me. Thank the Oracle."

Sian and Elyon shared a smile before she and her army moved to the platform, where many students were already flooding to, jostling for position, receiving instructions.

"Pride-Lander," said Professor Darbus, hurrying up to me, _"aren't you supposed to be looking for something?"_

"What? Oh," I said, "oh yeah!"

I had almost forgotten about the Horcrux, almost forgotten that the battle was being fought so that I could search for it: everything that had happened since Sian had made that incredible speech had momentarily driven every other thought from my mind.

"Then go, Pride-Lander, go!"

"Right - yeah - "

I sensed eyes following me as I ran out of the Great Hall again, with Sian right behind me, into the Entrance Hall that was now beginning to thin with the last few evacuating students. I allowed myself to be swept up the marble staircase with them, but at the top I hurried off along a deserted corridor. Fear and panic were clouding my thought process. I tried to calm myself, to concentrate on finding the Horcrux, but my thoughts buzzed as frantically and fruitlessly as wasps trapped beneath a glass. I had no idea where Chris and Chrissie were, so I slowed down, coming to a halt halfway along an empty passage where I sat down upon the plinth of a departed statue, with Sian leaning against the wall, and pulled the Scallywag's Map out of the pouch around my neck. I could not see Chris or Chrissie's names anywhere on it, though the density of the crowd of dots now making its way to the Room of Needs might, I thought, be concealing them. But then again, I thought, not seeing them anywhere on the Map could mean that they managed to get inside the Chamber after all, although I could not see how that could happen. I put the Map away, pressed my hands over my face and closed my eyes, trying to concentrate ...

"What is it, Kiara?" said Sian suddenly.

I looked up at her. She was watching me closely with her arms crossed, studying me closely.

"I know that something's troubling you, so what is it? Does it have something to do with the diadem?"

"Yes," I sighed. Sian said nothing. She was still watching me, so I went on, "Zira had stationed one of the Csintalans in Raven-Wings Tower, because she was afraid I would go there, because I had made the connection between Raven-Wings and the Horcrux. But I don't understand … the diadem is the only object that I can relate to Raven-Wings, so how do I know what to look for?"

I thought that Sian would have no answer either, but to my surprise she clucked her tongue, rolled her eyes and shook her head. I looked at her, confused.

"What? Why do you act that way? Am I missing something?"

"Well of _course_ you're missing something, Kiara," said Sian. "I could have told you that. But the diadem _is_ the object we're looking for?"

"But how can that be?" I asked. "No one alive has seen it for centuries!"

"Well then, let's ask someone who's _dead_ ," said Sian, looking at me pointedly.

I thought about her words carefully. They did not seem to make sense to me. After all, how could I talk to someone dead? It was impossible. The only way I would be able to do that was if I talked to a -

That was it! I realised as I gasped and jumped to my feet. I looked at Sian, who was smiling at me now. I smiled back at her, grateful for her help.

"I know who we have to see!" I said at once.

Sian nodded and followed me back the way we had come, now in pursuit of our one last hope. The sound of hundreds of people moving towards the Room of Needs grew louder and louder as we returned to the marble stairs. Prefects were shouting instructions, trying to keep track of the students in their own houses; there was much pushing and shoving; I saw Zhi Smith bowling over first-years to get to the front of the queue; here and there younger students were in tears, while older ones called desperately for friends or siblings …

I caught sight of a pearly-white figure drifting across the Entrance Hall below and I yelled as loudly as I could over the clamour.

"Nicola! NICOLA! We need to talk to you!"

Sian and I forced our way back through the tide of students, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs where Madam Nicola, ghost of Lion-Heart Tower, stood waiting for us.

"Kiara! Sian! So good to see you again, my dear girls!"

Nicola made to grasp mine and Sian's hands with her own. I felt Sian shudder beside me, not that I could blame her: my own hand felt as though it had been thrust into icy water.

"Nicola, you've got to help us. Who's the ghost of Raven-Wings Tower?"

Madam Nicola looked surprised, and a little offended.

"The Grey Lord, of course; but if it is ghostly services you require - "

"It's got to be him - d'you know where he is?"

"Let's see …"

Nicola's head wobbled a little on her ruff as she turned hither and thither, peering over the heads of the swarming students.

"That's him over there, girls, the young man in the long cloak."

Sian and I both looked in the direction of Nicola's transparent, pointing finger and saw a tall ghost who caught sight of us looking at him, raised his eyebrows and drifted away through a solid wall.

Sian and I ran after him. Once through the door of the corridor into which he had disappeared, we saw him at the very end of the passage, still gliding smoothly away from us.

"Hey - wait - come back!" I called after him.

He consented to pause, floating a few inches from the ground. I supposed that he was handsome, with his shoulder-length wavy hair and floor-length cloak, but he also looked haughty and proud. Close to, I recognised him as a ghost I had passed several times in the corridor, but to whom I had never spoken.

"You're the Grey Lord?"

He nodded but did not speak.

"The ghost of Raven-Wings Tower?"

"That is correct."

His tone was not encouraging.

"Please: we need some help. My friend and I here" I said, nodding to Sian, "need to know anything you can tell us about the lost diadem."

A cold smile curved his lips.

"I am afraid," he said, turning to leave, "that I cannot help you."

"WAIT!"

I had not meant to shout, but anger and panic were threatening to overwhelm me. I glanced at my watch as he hovered in front of Sian and I: it was a quarter to midnight.

"This is urgent," I said fiercely. "If that diadem's at Dragon Mort, we've got to find it, fast."

"You two are hardly the first students to covet the diadem," he said disdainfully. "Generations of students have badgered me - "

"This isn't about trying to get better marks!" I shouted at him. "It's about Zira - defeating Zira - or aren't you interested in that?"

He could not blush, but his transparent cheeks became more opaque, and his voice was heated as he replied, "Of course I - how dare you suggest - ?"

"Well, help us, then!"

"Please, sir," said Sian desperately, "you're our only hope!"

His composure was slipping.

"It - it is not a question of - " he stammered. "My father's diadem - "

"Your _father's_?" I said, surprised.

He looked angry with himself, as Sian gasped and said, "Of course! You're Howard Raven-Wings, aren't you? The son of Rowan Raven-Wings?"

"Yes, I was," he sighed, "when I lived."

"But if you're his son, then you must know what happened to it!"

"While the diadem bestows wisdom," he said, with an obvious effort to pull himself together, "I doubt that it would greatly increase your chances of defeating the witch her calls herself Lady - "

"Haven't I just told you, I'm not interested in wearing it! Neither of us are!" I said fiercely. "There's no time to explain - but if you care about Dragon Mort, if you want to see Zira finished, then you've got to tell us everything you know about the diadem!"

He remained quite still, floating in mid-air, staring down at me, and a sense of hopelessness engulfed me. Of course, if he had known anything, he would have told Winds of Crighton, who had surely asked him the same question. Sian and I shared a disappointed look, and we made to turn away, when he spoke in a low voice.

"I stole the diadem from my father."

Sian and I spun around at once.

"You - you did what?" I said, stunned.

 _"I stole the diadem,"_ repeated Howard Raven-Wings in a whisper. "I sought to make myself cleverer, more important than my father. I ran away with it."

I did not know how I managed to gain his confidence, and did not ask: I simply listened, as did Sian, hard, as he went on, "My father, they say, never admitted that the diadem was gone, but pretended that he had it still. He concealed his loss, my dreadful betrayal, even from the other founders of Dragon Mort.

"Then my father fell ill - fatally ill. In spite of my perfidy, he was desperate to see me one more time. He sent a woman who had long loved me, though I spurned her advances, to find me. He knew that she would not rest until she had done so."

I waited. He drew a deep breath and threw back his head.

"She tracked me to the forest where I was hiding. When I refused to return with her, she became so violent. The Baroness was always a hot-tempered woman. Furious at my refusal, jealous of my freedom, she stabbed me."

"When you say the Baroness," said Sian slowly, "you don't mean - "

"The Bloody Baroness, yes," said the Grey Lord, and he lifted aside the cloak he wore in one hand and pulled down his robes in the other, just enough to reveal a single dark wound in his chest. "When she saw what she had done, she was overcome with remorse. She took the weapon that had claimed my life, and used it to kill herself. All these centuries later, she wears her chains as an act of penitence … as she should," he added bitterly.

"And … and the diadem?" I asked.

"It remained where I had hidden it. When I heard the Baroness blundering through the forest towards me. Concealed inside a hollow tree."

"A hollow tree?" I repeated. "What tree? Where was this?"

"A forest in Albania. A lonely place I thought was far beyond my father's reach."

"Albania," I repeated. Sense was emerging miraculously from confusion now, and I understood why he was telling Sian and I what he had denied Crighton and Winds. "You've already told someone this story, haven't you? Another student?"

He closed his eyes and nodded.

"I had … no idea … she was … flattering. She seemed to … to understand … to sympathise … "

Yes, I thought, Dizra Maliay would certainly have understood Howard Raven-Wings' desire to possess fabulous objects to which he had little right.

"Well, you weren't the first person Maliay wormed things out of," I muttered. "She could be charming when she wanted …"

So Zira had managed to wheedle the location of the lost diadem out of the Grey Lord. She had travelled to that far-flung forest and retrieved the diadem from its hiding place, perhaps as soon as she left Dragon Mort, before she even started work at Borgin and Burkes.

And wouldn't those secluded Albanian woods have seemed an excellent refuge when, so much later, Zira had needed a place to lie low, undisturbed, for ten long years?

But the diadem, once it became her precious Horcrux, had not been left in that lowly tree … no, the diadem had been returned secretly to its true home, and Zira must have put it there -

" - the night she asked for a job!" I said, finishing my thought.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What did she do, kid?" Sian asked, looking at me.

"She hid the diadem in the castle, the night she asked Crighton to let her teach!" I said. Saying it out loud enabled me to make sense of it all. "She must've hidden the diadem on the way up to, or down from, Crighton's office! But it was still worth trying to get the job - then she might've got the chance to nick Lion-Heart's sword as well - thank you, thanks!"

Sian and I left the Grey Lord floating there, looking utterly bewildered. As we rounded the corner back into the Entrance Hall, we stopped, and I saw Sian looking at me, stunned but happy.

"Kiara, how on earth did you figure out that the diadem's here?"

"Well, I know that Zira liked hiding things that she had stolen," I explained. "Your mother told us as much last year, which made me think that she would have brought it here after she made it a Horcrux, so that no one else could take it accidentally."

Sian looked impressed by my discoveries. "Well figured out, Kiara! But where has she hidden it?"

"I don't know," I said, checking my watch. It was five minutes to midnight. "That's the only thing I can't work out."

Sian looked slightly disappointed, but quickly shrugged it off. "Well, it's a start," she said. "Why don't we walk, see if that will make sense of things?"

I could not think of anything better to do, so I agreed. As Sian and I walked side by side, my brains started whirring. Generations of students had failed to find the diadem; that suggested that it was not in Raven-Wings Tower - but if not there, where? What place had Dizra Maliay discovered inside Dragon Mort Castle, that she believed would remain secret forever?

Lost in desperate speculation, I turned a corner, Sian still by my side, but we had taken only a few steps down the corridor when the window to our left broke open with a deafening, shattering crash. As we leapt aside, a gigantic body flew in through the window and hit the opposite wall. something large and furry detached itself, whimpering, from the new arrival and flung itself at me.

"Mina!" I bellowed, fighting off Gnasher the boarhound's attentions as the enormous smooth-headed figure clambered to her feet. "What the - ?"

"Kiara, Sian, yer here, _yer here_!"

Mina stooped down, bestowed upon the both of us a cursory and rib-cracking hug, then ran back to the shattered window.

"Good girl, Harly!" she bellowed through the hole in the window. "I'll see yer in a moment, there's a good girl!"

Beyond Mina, out in the dark night, I saw bursts of light in the distance and heard a weird, keening scream. I looked at Sian, who looked as worried as I felt, and I did not need to look at my watch to know that midnight had come. The battle had begun.

"Blimey, girls," panted Mina, "this is it, eh? Time ter fight?"

"Mina, where have you come from?" I asked.

"Heard She-You-Know from up in our cave," said Mina grimly. "Voice carried, didn' it? 'Yeh got 'til midnight ter gimmer Pride-Lander'. Knew yeh mus' be here, knew what mus' be happenin'. Get _down_ , Gnasher. So we came ter join in, me an' Harly an' Gnasher. Smashed our way through the boundary by the forest, Harly was carryin' us, Gnasher an' me. Told her ter let me down at the castle so she shoved me through the window, bless her. Not exac'ly what I meant, bu' - where's Chris an' Chrissie?"

I did not know how to answer that, for it would be rather unwise to tell Mina the truth. Fortunately, Sian came to my rescue.

"We don't know, but they must be here somewhere. Kiara and I are going to look for them right now, aren't we?" she said, looking pointedly at me.

I caught on quickly: I flashed Sian a grateful smile, looked at Mina and said, "That's right. We've got to find them. Come on."

We hurried together along the corridor, Gnasher lolloping beside us. I could hear movement through the corridors all around: running footsteps, shouts; through the windows, I could see more flashes of light in the dark grounds.

Where're we goin'?" puffed Mina, pounding along at my heels, making the floorboards quake.

"I dunno exactly," I said, making another random turn, determinedly avoiding Old Moany's bathroom, "but Chris and Chrissie must be around here somewhere."

The first casualties of the battle were already strewn across the passage ahead: the two stone gargoyles that usually guarded the entrance to the staff room had been smashed apart by a jinx that had sailed through another broken window. Their remains stirred feebly on the floor, and as I leapt over one of their disembodied heads it moaned faintly, "Oh, don't mind me … I'll just lie here and crumble …"

Its marble stone face made me think suddenly of the marble bust of Rowan Raven-Wings at Xion's house, wearing that made headdress - and then of the statue in Raven-Wings Tower, with the stone diadem upon his white curls …

And as I reached the end of the passage, the memory of a third stone effigy came back to me: that of an ugly old witch, on to whose head I had placed a wig and a battered, old tiara. The shock shot through me with the heat of Firewhisky, and I nearly stumbled.

I knew, at last, where the Horcrux sat waiting for me …

Dizra Maliay, who confided in no one and operated alone, might have been arrogant enough to assume that she, and only she, had penetrated the deepest mysteries of Dragon Mort Castle. Of course, Crighton and Winds, those model pupils, had never set foot in that particular place, but I had strayed off the beaten track in my time at school - here at last was a secret that Zira and I knew, that Crighton had never discovered -

I was roused by Spud, who was thundering past followed by Nikita and half a dozen others, all of them wearing earmuffs and carrying what appeared to be large potted plants.

"Mandrakes!" Nikita bellowed at me over her shoulder as she ran. "Going to lob them over the walls - they won't like this!"

I knew, now, where to go: I sped off, with Sian, Mina and Gnasher galloping along behind me. We passed portrait after portrait, and the painted figures raced alongside us, wizards and witches in ruffs and breeches, in armour and cloaks, cramming themselves into each other's canvases, screaming news from other parts of the castle. As we reached the end of this corridor, the whole castle shook and I knew, as a gigantic vase blew off its plinth with explosive force, that it was in the grip of enchantments more sinister than those of the teachers and the Order.

"It's all righ', Gnasher - it's all righ'!" yelled Mina, but the great boarhound had taken flight as slivers of china flew like shrapnel through the air, and Mina pounded off after the terrified dog, leaving Sian and I alone.

As I turned to move on, Sian grabbed my arm, stopping me. Before I could say anything, she said, "You know where it is, don't you? The diadem?"

I nodded and said, "It's in the Room of Needs."

Sian blinked in surprised, then beamed widely and said, "Brilliant, Kiara! Let's get moving!"

Sian and I forged on through the trembling passages together, our wands at the ready, and for the length of one corridor the little painted knight, Knightress, rushed from painting to painting beside us, clanking along in her armour, screaming encouragement, her fat little pony cantering behind her.

"Braggarts and rogues, dogs and scoundrels, drive them out, Kiara Pride-Lander, see them off!"

Sian and I hurried round a corner and found Kopa and Tanya and a small knot of students, including Leah Jones and Hendry Abbott, standing beside another empty plinth, whose statue had concealed a secret passageway. Their wands were drawn and they were listening at the concealed hole.

"Nice night for it!" Tanya shouted, as the castle quaked again, and Sian and I sprinted by, and I was elated and terrified in equal measure.

I heard someone running behind us: glancing over my shoulder, I saw that it was Kopa. I shot Sian a questioning look, but all she said was, "We need him." I did not know what for, but something told me that it had nothing to do with the Horcruxes …

Along yet another corridor we dashed, and then there were owls everywhere, and Mrs Robbs was hissing and trying to bat them with her paws, no doubt to return them to their proper place …

"Pride-Lander!"

Sara Crighton stood blocking the corridor ahead, her wand held ready.

"I've had hundreds of kids thundering through my pub, Pride-Lander!"

"I know, we're evacuating," I said. "Zira's - "

" - attacking because they haven't handed you over, yeah," said Sara. "I'm not deaf, the whole of Dragsmeade heard her. And it never occurred to any of you to keep a few Snake-Eyes hostage? There are kids of Love Destroyers you've just sent to safety. Wouldn't it have been a bit smarter to keep 'em here?"

"It wouldn't stop Zira," I said, "and your sister would never have done it."

Sara grunted and tore away in the opposite direction.

 _Your sister would never have done it_ … well, it was the truth, I thought, as Sian, Kopa and I ran on again; Crighton, who had defended Triphorm for so long, would never had held students ransom …

Abd then I skidded round a final corner and with a yell of mingled relief and fury I saw them: Chris and Chrissie, both with their arms full of large, curved, dirty yellow objects, both with a broomstick under their arms.

I ran at Chris then, who looked at me, shocked and pleased, and before he could say anything I flung myself at him, wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, hard. Chris froze for a moment, then responded eagerly, dropping the fangs so he could hold me properly. I poured all of my relief, worry and anger into that kiss, and it was anger I focused on as I pulled back and slapped him. I saw the hurt in Chris' eyes as he touched his cheek gingerly.

"Ow! Kiara, what the - ?"

"Don't ever do that to me again!" I screamed, before leaning in and kissing him again, only stopping when the need for oxygen could no longer be ignored. Breathing heavily, and ignoring Chrissie's sly grin, I said, "So … you two got into the Chamber, then?"

"What?" said Chris dazedly. Then looking down at the fangs he had dropped, said, "Oh, yeah. Yeah, we did."

As Chris bent to pick up the great, curved fangs, I suddenly realised that they had been torn from the skull of a dead Liznsabadra.

"But how did you get in there?" asked Sian suddenly, looking at Chrissie. "You need to speak Parshydamouth!"

"She did!" whispered Chris. "Show them, Chrissie!"

Chrissie made a horrible, strangled hissing noise.

"It's what you did to open the locket," she told me apologetically. "I had to have a few goes to get it right, but," she shrugged modestly, "we got there in the end."

"She was _brilliant_!" said Chris. "Brilliant!"

"So …" I was struggling to keep up. "So …"

"So we're another Horcrux down," said Chrissie, and from under her jacket she pulled the mangled remains of Badger-Stripes cup. "Chris stabbed it. Thought he should. He hasn't had the pleasure yet."

"Genius!" I yelled.

"Well, Chrissie," said Sian, looking impressed, "turns out your head's not filled with air after all!"

Chrissie, who had looked pleased with herself, looked suddenly disheartened. "Really, Sian? After all these years, you're still giving me beef about that?"

Sian looked shocked at her sister's tone and said, "Hey, I was only teasing! I am proud of you, you know."

Chrissie looked relieved and surprised at the same time. "Really?"

Sian nodded, and the two sisters smiled at each other, as Kopa said, "Sian, what are you talking about? What are Horcruxes? What - ?"

"Kopa," said Sian, taking his hand, "I will tell you everything someday, I promise, but not now. All you can do is trust me on this. Do I have that?"

Kopa studied Sian for a moment, then said, "Of course."

Sian smiled at him gratefully, as Chrissie said, drawing my attention back to her, "So, what's new with you, Kiara?"

As she said it, there was an explosion from overhead: the five of us looked up as dust fell from the ceiling and we heard a distant scream.

"I know what the diadem looks like, and I know where it is," I said, talking fast. "She hid it exactly where I hid my old Potion's book, where everyone's been hiding stuff for centuries. She thought she was the only one to find it. Come on."

As the walls trembled again, I led the other four back through the concealed entrance and down the staircase into the Room of Needs. It was empty except for fourteen people: the other eight Dawson siblings: Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max, Ben and Dave, Todd and an elderly wizard wearing a blue suit, whom I recognised immediately as Nikita's grandfather, along with Harry and Ginny Potter and Ron and Hermione Weasley.

Seeing their sister's new look, the eight Dawson siblings looked in shock and awe at her appearance.

"Whoa … nice outfit, S.D.!" said Merida, clearly impressed.

"Yeah, who made it for you?" asked Max.

"The Oracle," Sian answered simply. "He sent Elyon to give it to me, and she brought her army along, too. They're helping us fight."

Beth, Kestrel and Merida looked happy at this news. Joe, Jack, Max, Ben and Dave, however, looked confused.

"Hang on - Elyon has an army?" said Dave.

"Well … yeah," said Merida, confused by his tone.

"Well, why didn't you tell any of us about this?" said Max angrily.

"Because the Oracle didn't want anyone to know about it," said Sian.

As this was going on, I looked at Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione, but it was Hermione that I focused on the most. She looked thinner than the last time I saw her, with heavy bags under her eyes and there was clear terror in her eyes. Ron kept an arm tight around her as he, Harry and Ginny talked quietly, the three of them looked scared too, yet determined. It was Harry who saw me first and alerted the other three to my presence.

"Kiara, good to see you again," said Harry, and we shook hands.

"Good to see you, too," I said.

"Sorry we're a bit late, but we've been in hiding," said Harry. "We all had to - with our kids, of course … especially after what happened to Hermione," he added, gazing at his friend sadly.

"Why, what happened?" I said, turning to her.

Hermione gulped loudly and said, her voice trembling, "Well, when the order came to take all the Muggle-borns and Bright-brains into the Ministry, I, of course, was one of the first. The Love Destroyers came to my house, blew the door down and tried to take me away by force, threatening me with torture and beating me into coming with them. Ron was amazing, though," she said, turning to him with nothing but love in her eyes. "He was my saviour. He fought them all off and soon after, he and my children went into hiding. Harry and Ginny joined us not long after Christmas with their kids."

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," I said. "Are you sure you want to fight, though? I'll understand if you don't - "

"No, it's fine," Hermione said determinedly. "I've fought people like them once before, and I will do so again."

I smiled and nodded at her, grateful for her help. Then I turned to Mr Goldberg, Nikita's grandfather, who approached me briskly.

"Ah, Pride-Lander," he said crisply, as if he had been waiting for me. "You can tell us what's going on."

"Is everyone OK?" said Merida and Todd together.

"'S far as we know," I said. "Are there still people in the passage to the Dragon's Eye?"

I knew that the Room would not be able to transform while there were still users inside it.

"I was the last to come through," said Mr Goldberg. "I sealed it, I think it unwise to leave it open now Sara has left her pub. Have you seen my granddaughter?"

"She's fighting," I said.

"Naturally," said the old man proudly. "Excuse me, I must go and assist her."

With surprising speed, he hurried off towards the stone steps.

I looked at Todd.

"I thought you were supposed to be with Timmy at your mother's?"

"I couldn't stand not knowing - " Todd looked anguished. "She'll look after him - have you seen Timon?"

"He was planning to lead a group of fighters into the grounds - "

Without another word, Todd sped off.

"And you lot," said Sian, addressing her siblings, "you're all going to have to leave too - not without protection, though!" Sian finished loudly, cutting quickly across her brothers and sisters' yells of joy at having to leave their sanctuary to join the fighting. Before they could start protesting, Sian looked into Kopa's eyes, the only part of his face she could see as the rest was covered with cloths and she asked him, desperately, "Protect them for me as best you can, won't you?"

Kopa's eyes sparkled. "Of course I will." He then closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. Sian sighed and closed her eyes.

"Thank you," she breathed, as the pulled back and looked at each other.

Kopa took her hand and said, "For you, anything." He then gave her hand a gentle squeeze and led the rest of the Dawsons from the Room.

"Hang on a moment!" said Chrissie sharply. "We've forgotten someone!"

"Who?" asked Sian.

"The house-elves, they'll all be down in the kitchen, won't they?"

"You mean we ought to get them fighting?" I asked.

"No," said Chrissie seriously, "I mean we should tell them to get out. We don't want any more Dokeys, do we? We can't order them to die for us - "

Chrissie was then thrown off balance as Sian ran at her, wrapping Chrissie in a tight embrace. Chrissie quickly regained her balance and stood there, looking stunned, her arms lying limply at her sides. Not noticing this, Sian drew back a little and, with a wide grin plastered on her face, said, "You really _are_ my sister!" before hugging her again. Chrissie quickly got over the shock of what her sister did, for she smiled, closed her eyes and hugged Sian back.

I did not want to break up this moment, but I knew I had to, for there were things that needed to be done, so I raised my voice and said, "There's a war going on here, you know!"

Sian and Chrissie broke apart and looked at me.

"We know, Kiara," said Sian, beaming with pride, "I just - "

"Never mind that, what about the Horcrux?" I shouted.

That got Sian and Chrissie's attention.

"Yeah - right - sorry," said Chrissie, and she set about gathering up the fangs, hers and Sian's faces pink.

It was clear, as the four of us stepped back into the corridor upstairs, that in the minutes that we had spent in the Room of Needs the situation within the castle had deteriorated severely: the walls and ceiling were shaking worse than ever; dust filled the air and through the nearest window I saw bursts of red and green light, along with the magical purple sparks from the spears that Elyon's army had, so close to the castle that I knew the Love Destroyers must be very near to entering the place. Looking down, I saw Harlow the giantess meandering past, swinging what looked like a stone gargoyle torn from the roof and roaring her displeasure.

"Let's hope she steps on some of them!" said Chrissie, as more screams echoed from close by.

"As long as it's not any of our lot!" said a voice: I turned and saw the other Dawsons, Todd and Kopa, all with their wands drawn at the next few windows, which were missing several panes. Even as I watched, Merida sent a well-aimed jinx into a crowd of fighters below.

"Good girl!" roared a figure running through the dust towards us, and I saw Sara again, her grey hair flying as she led a small group of students past. "They look like they might be breaching the North Battlements, they've brought giants of their own!"

"Have you seen Timon?" Todd called after her.

"He was duelling Dali," shouted Sara, "haven't seen him since!"

"Todd," said Merida, "Todd, I'm sure he's OK - "

But Todd had run off into the dust after Sara.

Kestrel and Merida both turned, helpless, to Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I.

"They'll be all right," I said, though I knew they were empty words. Then I addressed the others, "All right, you lot, we'll be back in a bit, just keep out of the way, keep safe, and stay close to Kopa - come on!" I said to Chris, Sian and Chrissie, and we ran back to the stretch of wall beyond which the Room of Needs was waiting to do the bidding of the next entrant.

 _I need the place where everything is hidden_ , I begged of it, inside my head, and the door materialised on our third run past.

The force of the battle died the moment we crossed the threshold and closed the door behind us: all was silent. We were in a place the size of a cathedral with the appearance of a city, its towering walls built of objects hidden by thousands of long-gone students.

"And she never realised _anyone_ could get in?" said Chrissie, her voice echoing in the silence.

"She thought she was the only one," I said. "Too bad for her I've had to hide stuff in my time … this way," I added, "I think it's down here …"

I passed the stuffed troll and the Vanishing Cabinet Dani Malty had mended last year with such disastrous consequences, then hesitated, looking up and down the aisles of junk; I could not remember where to go next …

 _"Accio diadem,"_ cried Sian in desperation, but nothing flew through the air towards us. It seemed that, like the vault at Fauntrotts, the room would not yield its objects that easily.

"Let's split up," I told the other three. "Look for the stone bust of an old woman wearing a wig and a tiara! It's standing on a cupboard and it's definitely somewhere near here …"

We sped off up adjacent aisles; I could hear the others' footsteps echoing through the towering piles of junk, of bottles, hats, crates, chairs, books, weapons, broomsticks, bats …

"Somewhere near here," I muttered to myself. "Somewhere … somewhere …"

Deeper and deeper in the labyrinth I went, looking for object I recognised from my previous trip into the room. My breath was loud in my ears, and then my very soul seemed to shiver: there it was, right ahead, the blistered old cupboard in which I had hidden my old Potions book, and on top of it, the pock-marked stone witch wearing a dusty, old wig and what looked like an ancient, discoloured tiara.

I had already stretched out my hand, though I remained only ten feet away, when a voice behind me said, "Hold it, Pride-Lander!"

I skidded to a halt and turned round. Crate and Gabber were standing behind me, shoulder to shoulder, wands pointing right at me. Through the small space between their jeering faces, I saw Dani Malty.

"That's my wand you're holding, Pride-Lander," said Malty, pointing her own through the gap between Crate and Gabber.

"Not any more," I panted, tightening my grip on the hawthorn wand. "Winners, keepers, Malty. Who's lent you theirs?"

"My father," said Dani.

I laughed, though there was nothing very humorous about the situation. I could not hear Chris, Sian or Chrissie any more. They seemed to have run out of earshot, searching for the diadem.

"So how come you three aren't with Zira?" I asked.

"We're gonna be rewarded," said Crate: her voice was surprisingly soft for such an enormous person; I had hardly ever heard her speak before. Crate was smiling like a child promised a large bag of sweets. "We 'ung back, Pride-Lander. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to 'er."

"Good plan," I said in mock admiration. I could not believe that I was this close, and yet I was going to be thwarted by Malty, Crate and Gabber. I began edging slowly backwards towards the place where the Horcrux sat lopsided upon the bust. If I could just get my hands on it before the fight broke out …

"So how did you get in here?" I asked, trying to distract them.

"I virtually lived in the Room of Hidden Things all last years," said Malty, her voice brittle. "I know how to get in."

"We was hiding in the corridor outside," grunted Gabber. "We can do Disslusion Charms now! And then," her face split into a gormless grin, "you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum! What's a die-dum?"

"Kiara?" Chris' voice echoed suddenly from the other side of the wall to my right. "Are you talking to someone?"

With a whip-like movement, Crate pointed her wand at the fifty-foot mountain of old furniture, of broken trunks, of old books and robes and unidentifiable junk and shouted, _"Descendo!"_

The wall began to totter, then crumbled into the aisle next door where Chris stood.

"Chris!" I screamed, as somewhere out of sight Chrissie screamed and Sian yelled, "What's going on?", and I heard innumerable objects crashing to the floor on the other side of the destabilised wall: I pointed my wand at the rampart, cried, _"Finite!"_ and it steadied. I then turned my wand on Crate, wanting to attack her as rage flooded through me at her nerve for trying to kill him. Crate smiled stupidly at me as she raised her wand, but Malty stopped her.

"No! If you wreck the room, you might bury this diadem thing, not to mention kill Pride-Lander in the process!"

"What's the matter?" said Crate, tugging herself free from Malty's grip. "It's Pride-Lander the Scarlet Lady wants, who cares about a die-dum?"

"Pride-Lander came in here to get it," said Malty with ill-disguised impatience at the slow-wittedness of her colleagues, "so that must mean - "

"'Must mean'?" Crated turned on Malty with undisguised ferocity. "Who cares what you think? I don't take your orders no more, _Dani_. You an' your mum are finished."

"Kiara?" shouted Chris again, from the other side of the junk wall. "What's going on?"

"Kiara?" mimicked Crate. "What's going - _no_ , Pride-Lander! _Crucio!_ "

I had lunged for the tiara; Crate's curse missed me but hit the stone bust, which flew into the air; the diadem soared upwards and then dropped out of sight in the mass of objects on which the bust had rested.

"STOP!" Malty shouted at Crate, her voice echoing through the enormous room. "The Scarlet Lady wants her alive - "

"So? I'm not killing her, am I?" yelled Crate, throwing off Malty's restraining arm. "But if I can, I will, the Scarlet Lady wants her dead, anyway, what's the diff- ?"

Two jets of scarlet light shot past me by inches: Chris had finally managed to come out from behind the wall, as Sian run round the corner behind me and they both sent a Stunning Spell straight at Crate's head. Both spells only missed her because Malty pulled her out of the way.

"It's that Sackbrain! _Avada Kedavra!_ "

I saw Sian dive aside and my fury that Crate had aimed to kill, not just Sian, but Chris also, wiped all else from my mind. I shot a Stunning Spell at Crate, who lurched out of the way, knocking Malty's wand out of her hand; it rolled out of sight beneath a mountain of broken furniture and boxes.

"Don't kill her! DON'T KILL HER!" Malty yelled at Crate and Gabber, who were both aiming at me: their split second's hesitation was all I needed.

 _"Expelliarmus!"_

Gabber's wand flew out of her hand and disappeared into the bulwark of objects beside her; Gabber leapt foolishly on the spot, trying to retrieve it; Malty jumped out of range of Sian's second Stunning Spell and Chrissie, appearing suddenly at the end of the aisle, shot a full Body-Bind Curse at Crate, which narrowly missed.

Crate wheeled round and screamed, _"Avada Kedavra!"_ again. Chrissie leapt out of sight to avoid the flash of green light. The wandless Malty cowered behind a three-legged wardrobe as Sian charged towards them, hitting Gabber with a Stunning Spell as she came.

"It's somewhere here!" I yelled at her, pointing at the pile of junk into which the old tiara had fallen. "Look for it while Chris and I go and help C- "

"KIARA!" she screamed,

A roaring, billowing noise behind me gave me a moment's warning. I turned and saw both Chrissie and Crate running as hard as they could up the aisle towards us.

"Like it hot, scum?" roared Crate as she ran.

But she seemed to have no control over what she had done. Flames of abnormal size were pursuing us, licking up the sides of the junk bulwarks, which were crumbling to soot at their touch.

 _"Aquamenti!"_ I bawled, but the jet of water that soared from the tip of my wand evaporated in the air.

"RUN!"

Malty grabbed the Stunned Gabber and dragged her along: Crate outstripped all of us, now looking terrified; Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I pelted along in her wake, and the fire pursued us. It was not normal fire; Crate had used a curse of which I had no knowledge: as we turned a corner the flames chased us as though they were alive, sentient, intent upon killing us. Now the fire was mutating, forming a gigantic pack of fiery beasts: flaming serpents, chimaeras and dragons rose and fell and rose again, and the detritus of centuries on which they were feeding was thrown up in the air into their fanged mouths, tossed high on clawed feet, before being consumed by the inferno.

Malty, Crate and Gabber had vanished from view: Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I stopped dead; the fiery monsters were circling us, drawing closer and closer, claws and horns and tails lashed, and the heat was solid as a wall around us.

"What can we do?" Sian shouted over the deafening roars of the fire. "What can we do?"

"Here!"

I seized three heavy-looking broomsticks from the nearest pule of junk and threw two to Chris and Chrissie, and Chris pulled Sian on to it behind him, I swung my leg over the third broom and, with hard kicks to the ground, we soared up into the air, missing by feet the horned beak of a flaming raptor that snapped its jaws at us. The smoke and heat were becoming overwhelming: below us the cursed fire was consuming the contraband of generations of hunted students, the guilty outcomes of a refuge in the room. I could not see a trace of Malty, Crate or Gabber anywhere: I swooped as low as I dared over the marauding monsters of flame to try to find them, but there was nothing but fire: what a terrible way to die … I had never wanted this …

"Kiara, let's get out, let's get out!" screamed Chrissie, though it was impossible to see where the door was through the black smoke.

And then I heard a thin, piteous human scream from amidst the terrible commotion, the thunder of devouring flame.

"It's - too - dangerous - !" Chris yelled, but I wheeled in the air, raking the firestorm below, seeking a sign of life, a limb or a face that was not yet charred wood …

And I saw them: Malty with her arms around the unconscious Gabber, the pair of them perched on a fragile pile of charred desks, and I dived. Malty saw me coming, and raised one arm, but even as I grasped it I knew at once that it was no good: Gabber was too heavy and Malty's hand, covered in sweat, slid instantly out of mine -

"IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'LL KILL YOU, KIARA!" roared Chrissie's voice, and as a great, flying chimaera bore down upon us she, with help from Chris and Sian, dragged Gabber on to her broom and rose, rolling and pitching into the air once more as Malty clambered up behind me.

"The door, get to the door, get to the door!" screamed Malty in my ear, and I sped up, following Chris, Sian, Chrissie and Gabber through the billowing black smoke, hardly able to breathe: and all around us the last few objects unburned by the devouring flames were flung into the air, as the creatures of the cursed fire cast them high in celebration: cups and shields, a sparkling necklace and an old, discoloured tiara -

 _"What are you doing, what are you doing? The door's that way!"_ screamed Malty, but I made a hairpin swerve and dived. The diadem seemed to fall in slow motion, turning and glittering as it dropped towards the maw of a yawning serpent, and then I had it, caught it around my wrist -

I swerved again as the serpent lunged at me and soared upwards straight towards the place where, I prayed, the door stood open: Chris, Sian, Chrissie and Gabber had vanished, and Malty was screaming and holding me so tightly it hurt. Then, through the smoke, I saw a rectangular patch on the wall and steered the broom at it, and moments later clean air filled my lungs and we collided with the wall in the corridor beyond.

Malty fell off the broom and lay face down, gasping, coughing and retching. I rolled over and sat up: the door to the Room of Needs had vanished and Chris, Sian and Chrissie sat panting on the floor beside Gabber, who was still unconscious.

"C-Crate?" croaked Malty, as soon as she could speak. "C-Crate …"

"She's dead," said Chrissie harshly.

There was silence, apart from panting and coughing. Then a number of huge bangs shook the castle, and a great cavalcade of transparent figures galloped past on horses, their heads screaming with bloodlust under their arms. I staggered to my feet when the Headless Hunt had passed and looked around: the battle was still going on all around me. I could hear more screams than those of the retreating ghosts. Panic flared within me.

"Where're Kopa, Kestrel and the others?" I said sharply. "They were here. I told them to stay here and close to Kopa.

At this, Sian's head popped up and she looked around. Trying to remain calm, she said reasonably, "Maybe something happened outside, just near here, that made them move somewhere else."

Chris looked at Sian then. "D'you think we should split up and look for them, or - "

"No," said Sian, getting to her feet. Malty and Gabber remained hopelessly on the corridor floor; neither of them had wands. "Let's stick together. I'm sure Kopa's with them still, they should be fine. I say we go - Kiara, what's that on your arm?"

"What? Oh, yeah - "

I pulled the diadem from my wrist and held it up. It was still hot, blackened with soot, but as I looked at it closely I was just able to make out the tiny words etched upon it:

 _Knowledge is to power as wit is to love._

A blood-like substance, dark and tarry, seemed to be leaking from the diadem. Suddenly I felt the thing vibrate violently, then break apart in my hands, and as it did so, I thought I heard the faintest, most distant scream of pain, echoing not from the grounds or the castle, but from the thing that had just fragmented in my fingers.

"It must have been Fiendfyre!" whimpered Sian, her eyes on the broken pieces.

"Sorry?"

"Fiendfyre - cursed fire - it's one of the substances that destroy Horcruxes, but I would never, ever have dared to use it, it's so dangerous. How did Crate know how to - ?"

"Must've learned it from the Csintalans," I said grimly.

"Shame she wasn't concentrating when they mentioned how to stop it, really," said Chrissie, whose hair, just like Chris and Sian's, was singed, and whose face was blackened. "If she hadn't tried to kill us all, I'd be quite sorry she was dead."

"But don't you realise?" whispered Sian. "This means, if we can just get to the snake - "

But she broke off as yells and shouts and the unmistakable noises of duelling filled the corridor. I looked around and my heart seemed to fail: Love Destroyers had penetrated Dragon Mort. Tanya and Perdy had just backed into view, both of them duelling masked and hooded women.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I ran forwards to help: jets of light flew in every direction and the woman duelling Perdy backed off, fast: then her hood slipped and we saw a high forehead and streaked hair -

"Hello, Minister!" bellowed Perdy, sending a neat jinx straight at Thicko, who dropped her wand and clawed at the front of her robes, apparently in awful discomfort. "Did I mention I'm resigning?"

"You're joking, Perd?" shouted Tanya, as the Love Destroyer she was battling collapsed under the weight of four separate Stunning Spells. Thicko had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over her; she seemed to be turning into some form of sea urchin. Tanya looked at Perdy with glee.

"You actually _are_ joking, Perd … I don't think I've heard you joke since you were - "

The air exploded. We had been grouped together, Chris, Sian, Chrissie, Tanya, Perdy and I, the two Love Destroyers at our feet, one Stunned, the other Transfigured: and in that fragment of a moment, when danger seemed, temporarily, at bay, the world was rent apart. I felt myself flying through the air, and all I could do was hold as tightly as possible to that thin stick of wood that was my one and only weapon, and shield my head in my arms: I heard the screams and yells of my companions without a hope of knowing what had happened to them -

And then the world resolved itself into pain and semi-darkness: I was half buried in the wreckage of a corridor that had been subjected to a terrible attack: cold air told me that the side of the castle had been blown away and hot stickiness on my cheek told me that I was bleeding copiously. Then I heard a terrible cry that pulled at my insides, that exposed agony of a kind neither flame nor curse could cause, and I stood up, swaying, more frightened that I had been that day, more frightened, perhaps, than I had been in my life …

And Chris was struggling to his feet in the wreckage, and four dark brown-haired women were grouped on the ground where the wall had blasted apart. I grabbed desperately at Chris' hand, needing to rely on his strength as much as he did mine, and together we staggered and stumbled over stone and wood.

"No - no - no!" someone was shouting. "No! Tanya! No!"

And Perdy was shaking her sister, and Sian and Chrissie were kneeling beside them, their arms around each other, and Tanya's eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of her last laugh still etched upon her face.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

 **The Stick of Fear**

 **KIARA**

The world had ended, so why had the battle not ceased, the castle fallen silent in horror, and every combatant laid down their arms? My mind was in freefall, spinning out of control, unable to grasp the impossibility, because Tanya Fang could not be dead, the evidence of all my senses must be lying -

And then a body fell past the hole blown into the side of the school and curses flew in at us from the darkness, hitting the wall behind our heads.

"Get down!" I shouted, as more curses flew through the night: Chris grabbed both myself and Sian and pulled is to the floor, and Chrissie lay over Perdy, who lay across Tanya's body, shielding it from further harm, and when I shouted, "Perdy, come on, we've got to move!" she shook her head.

"Perdy!" I saw tear tracks streaking the grime coating Chrissie's face as she seized her cousin's shoulders and pulled, but Perdy would not budge. "Perdy, you can't do anything for her! We've got to - "

Sian screamed, and when I turned around, I did not need to ask why. A monstrous spider the size of a small car was trying to climb through the huge hole in the wall: one of Aratota's descendants had joined the fight.

Chris, Chrissie and I shouted together; our spells collided and the monster was blown backwards, its legs jerking horribly, and vanished into the darkness.

"It brought friends!" I called to the others, glancing over the edge of the castle through the hole in the wall the curses had blasted: more giant spiders were climbing up the side of the building, liberated from the Black Forest into which the Love Destroyers must have penetrated. I fired Stunning Spells down upon them, knocking the lead monster into its fellows, so that they rolled back down the building and out of sight. Then more curses came soaring over my head, so close I felt the force of them blow my hair.

"Let's move, NOW!"

Chris grabbed Sian and Chrissie's hands and pulled them along, as I stooped to seize Tanya's body under the armpits. Perdy, realising what I was trying to do, stopped clinging to the body and helped; together, crouching low to avoid the curses flying at us from the grounds, we hauled Tanya out of the way.

"Here," I said, and we placed her in a niche where a suit of armour had stood earlier. I could not bear to look at Tanya a second longer than I had to, and after making sure that the body was well hidden I took after Chris, Sian and Chrissie. Malty and Gabber had vanished, but at the end of the corridor, which was now full of dust and falling masonry, glass long gone from the windows, I saw many people running backwards and forwards, whether friends or foes I could not tell. Rounding the corner, Perdy let out a bull-like roar, "ROSCOE!" and sprinted off in the direction of a tall woman, who was pursuing a couple of students.

"Kiara, in here!" Chris called.

He and Sian had pulled Chrissie behind a tapestry, and both of them seemed to be wrestling with Chrissie, and I quickly realised that they were trying to restrain her.

"Listen to me - _LISTEN, CHRISSIE_!" Sian shouted.

"I wanna help - I wanna kill Love Destroyers - "

Her face was contorted, smeared with dust and smoke, and she was shaking with rage and grief.

"Chrissie, we're the only ones who can end it! Please - Chrissie - we need the snake, we've got to kill the snake!" said Sian.

But I knew how Chrissie felt: pursuing another Horcrux could not bring the satisfaction of revenge; I too wanted to fight, to punish them, the people who had killed Tanya, and I wanted to find the other Dawsons and Kopa, and above all, make quite sure, that my parents and Grandmother Sarabi were all right, that they were not in fact - but I could not permit that idea to form in my mind -

"We _will_ fight!" Sian said. "We'll have to, to reach the snake! But let's not lose sight now of what we're supposed to be doing! We're the only ones who can e-end it!"

I could just see Sian's eyes filled with tears, but she brushed and blinked them away, taking deep breaths so as to try and calm herself as, still keeping a tight hold on Chrissie with Chris' help, she turned to me.

"You need to find out where she is, because she's have the snake with her, won't she? Do it, Kiara - look inside her!"

Why was it so easy? Because my scar had been burning for hours, yearning to show me Zira's thoughts? I closed my eyes on her command, and at once, the screams and the bangs and all the discordant sounds of the battle were drowned until they became distant, as though I stood far, far away from them …

She was standing in the middle of a desolate but strangely familiar room, with peeling paper on the walls and all the windows boarded except for one. The sounds of the assault on the castle were muffled and distant. The single unblocked window revealed distant bursts of light where the castle stood, but inside the room it was dark except for a solitary oil lamp.

She was rolling her wand between her fingers, watching it, her thoughts on the Room in the castle, the secret Room only she had ever found, the Room, like the Chamber, that you had to be clever, and cunning, and inquisitive to discover … she was confident that the girl would not find the diadem … although Crighton's puppet had come much further than she had ever expected … too far …

"My Lady," said a voice, desperate and cracked. She turned: there was Narissa Malty sitting in the darkest corner, ragged and still bearing the marks of punishment she had received after the girl's last escape. One of her eyes remained closed and puffy. "My Lady … please … my daughter …"

"If your daughter is not dead, Narissa, it is not my fault. She did not come and join me, like the rest of the Snake-Eyes. Perhaps she has decided to befriend Kiara Pride-Lander?"

"No - never," whispered Malty.

"You must hope not."

"Aren't - aren't you afraid, my Lady, that Pride-Lander might die at another hand but yours?" asked Malty, her voice shaking. "Wouldn't it be … forgive me … more prudent to call off this battle, enter the castle and seek her y-yourself?"

"Do not pretend, Narissa. You wish the battle to cease so that you can discover what happened to your daughter. And I do not need to seek Pride-Lander. Before the night is out, Pride-Lander will come to find me, and her parents will be mine, too."

Zira dropped her gaze once more to the wand in her fingers. It troubled her … and those things that troubled Lady Zira needed to be rearranged …

"Go and fetch Triphorm."

"Triphorm, m-my Lady?"

"Triphorm. Now. I need her. There's a - service - I require from her. Go."

Frightened, stumbling a little through the gloom, Narissa left the room. Zira continued to stand there, twirling the wand between her fingers, staring at it.

"It is the only way, Namzo," she whispered, and she looked round, and there was the great, thick snake, now suspended in mid-air, twisting gracefully within the enchanted, protected space she had made for him, a starry, transparent sphere somewhere between glittering cage and tank.

With a gasp, I pulled back and opened my eyes; at the same moment my ears were assaulted with the screeches and cries, the smashes and bangs of battle.

"She's in the Howling House. The snake's with her, it's got some sort of magical protection around it. She's just sent Narissa Malty to find Triphorm."

"She's just sitting around the Howling House?" said Chris, outraged. "She's not even bothering to fight?"

"She doesn't think she needs to fight," I said. "She thinks I'm going to go to her."

"But why?"

"She knows I'm after Horcruxes - she's keeping Namzo close beside her - obviously I'm going to have to go to her to get near the thing - "

"Right," said Chrissie, squaring her shoulders. "So you can't go, that's what she wants, what she's expecting. "You stay here with Sian and Chris, and I'll go and get it - "

I cut across Chrissie.

"You three stay here, I'll go under the Cloak and I'll be back as soon as I - "

"No," said Sian, "it makes much more sense if I take the Cloak and - "

"Now hang on," said Chris, "I'll take the Cloak and go down - "

"But what if she recognises you?" I said, looking at him, pleading him not to go with my eyes. "You could get hurt, or - "

Before Chris could get further than, "Kiara, nothing's going to happen - " the tapestry at the top of the staircase on which we stood was ripped open.

"PRIDE-LANDER!"

Two masked Love Destroyers stood there, but even before their wands were fully raised, Sian shouted, _"Glisseo!"_

The stairs beneath our feet flattened into a chute and she, Chris, Chrissie and I hurtled down it, unable to control our feet but so fast that the Love Destroyers' Stunning Spells flew far over our heads. We shot through the concealing tapestry at the bottom and spun to the floor, hitting the opposite wall.

 _"Duro!"_ cried Sian, pointing her wand at the tapestry, and there were two loud, sickening crunches as the tapestry turned to stone and the Love Destroyers pursuing us crumpled against it.

"Get back!" shouted Chrissie, and she, Chris, Sian and I flattened ourselves against a door as a herd of galloping desks thundered past, shepherded by a sprinting Professor Darbus. She appeared not to notice us: her hair had come down and there was a gash on her cheek. As she turned the corner, we heard her scream: "CHARGE!"

"Kiara, you get the Cloak on," said Sian. "Never mind us - "

But I threw it over all four of us; large though we were, I doubted anyone would see our disembodied feet through the dust that clogged the air, the falling stone, the shimmer of spells.

We ran down the next staircase and found ourselves in a corridor full of duellers. The portraits on either side of the fighters were crammed with figures, screaming advice and encouragement, while Love Destroyers both masked and unmasked duelled students, teachers and Elyon's army, who were waving their magical spears around at the Love Destroyers; Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I had to duck quickly out of the way to avoid a big, boulder-like blue man, who came hurtling through the air, struck by a Killing Curse, who hit the wall opposite us with a deafening crunch and fell to the floor, leaving behind a large dent in the wall where he had hit it. Dena had won herself a wand, for she was face to face with Dali, Perry with Terrell. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I raised our wands at once, ready to strike, but the duellers were weaving and darting around so much that there was a strong likelihood of hurting one of our own side if we cast curses. Even as we stood braced, looking for the opportunity to act, there came a great _"wheeeeeeeeeeee!"_ and, looking up, I saw Weeves zooming over us, dropping Snargaluff pods down on to the Love Destroyers, whose heads were suddenly engulfed in wriggling, green tubers like fat worms.

"Argh!"

A fistful of tubers had hit the Cloak over Chrissie's head; the slimy, green roots were suspended improbably in mid-air as Chrissie tried to shake them loose.

"Someone's invisible under there!" shouted a masked Love Destroyers, pointing.

Dena made the most of the Love Destroyer's distraction, knocking her out with a Stunning Spell; Dali attempted to retaliate and Perry shot a Body-Bind Curse at her.

"LET'S GO!" I yelled, and Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I gathered the Cloak around ourselves and pelted, heads down, through the midst of the fighters, slipping a little in pools of Snargaluff juice, towards the top of the marble staircase into the Entrance Hall.

"I'm Danielle Malty, I'm Dani, I'm on your side!"

Dani was on the upper landing, pleading with another masked Love Destroyer. I Stunned the Love Destroyer as we passed: Malty looked around, beaming, for her saviour, and Chrissie punched her from under the Cloak. Malty fell backwards on top of the Love Destroyer, her mouth bleeding, utterly bemused.

"And that's the second time we've saved your life tonight, you two-faced bitch!" Chrissie yelled.

There were more duellers all over the stairs and in the Hall, Love Destroyers everywhere I looked: Yap, close to the front doors, in combat with Winds, a masked Love Destroyer was duelling Kara right beside them. Students ran in every direction, some carrying or dragging injured friends. I directed a Stunning Spell towards the masked Love Destroyer, it missed but nearly hit Nikita, who had emerged from nowhere brandishing armful of Venomous Tentacular, which lopped itself happily around the nearest Love Destroyer and began reeling her in.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I sped down the marble staircase: glass shattered to our left and the Snake-Eyes hourglass that had recorded house points spilled its emeralds everywhere, so that people slipped and staggered as they ran. Two bodies fell from the balcony overhead as we reached the ground and a grey blur that I took for an animal sped four-legged across the hall to sink its teeth into one of the fallen.

"No!" shrieked Sian, and with a deafening blast from her wand Rasputin Silverfur was thrown backwards from the feebly stirring body of Larry Brown. He hit the marble banisters and struggled to return to his feet. Then, with a bright white flash and a crack, a crystal ball fell on top of his head and he crumpled to the ground and did not move.

"I have more!" shrieked Professor Crystals from over the banisters. "More for any who want them! Here - "

And with a move like a tennis serve, he heaved another enormous crystal sphere from his bag, waved his wand through the air, and caused the ball to speed across the hall and smash through a window. At the same moment, the heavy wooden front doors burst open, and more of the gigantic spiders forced their way into the Entrance Hall.

Screams of terror rent the air: the fighters scattered, Love Destroyers and Dragon Morters alike, and the red and green jets of light flew into the midst of the oncoming monsters, which shuddered and reared, more terrifying than ever.

"How do we get out?" yelled Chrissie over all the screaming, but before either myself or Chris or Sian could answer we were bowled aside: Mina had come thundering down the stairs, brandishing her flowery pink umbrella.

"Don't hurt 'em, don't hurt 'em!" she yelled.

"MINA, NO!"

I forgot everything else: I sprinted out from under the Cloak, running bent double to avoid the curses illuminating the whole Hall.

"MINA, COME BACK!"

But I was not even halfway to Mina when I saw it happen: Mina vanished amongst the spiders, and with a great scurrying, a foul swarming movement, they retreated under the onslaught of spells, Mina buried in their midst.

"MINA!"

I heard someone calling my own name, whether friend or foe I did not care: I was sprinting down the front steps into the dark grounds, and the spiders were swarming away with their prey, and I could see nothing of Mina at all.

"MINA!"

I thought I could make out an enormous arm waving from the midst of the spider swarm, but as I made to chase after them, my way was impeded by a monumental foot, which swung down out of the darkness and made the ground on which I stood shudder. I looked up: a giant stood before me, twenty feet high, its head hidden in shadow, nothing but its tree-like, hairy shins illuminated by light from the castle doors. With one brutal, fluid movement, it smashed a massive fist through an upper window and glass rained down upon me, forcing me back under the shelter of the doorway.

"Oh my - " shrieked Sian, as she, Chris and Chrissie caught up with me and gazed upwards at the giant now trying to seize people through the window above.

"DON'T!" Chrissie yelled, grabbing Sian's hand as she raised her wand. "Stun him and he'll crush half the castle - "

"MEENAH?"

Harlow came lurching round the corner of the castle; only now did I realise that Harlow was, indeed, an undersized giantess. The gargantuan monster trying to crush people on the upper floors looked around and let out a roar. The stone steps trembled as he stomped towards his former kin, and Harlow's lopsided mouth fell open, showing yellow, half-brick-sized teeth, and then they launched themselves at each other with the savagery of lions.

"RUN!" I roared; the night was full of hideous yells and blows as the giants wrestled, and I seized Chris' hand and tore down the steps into the grounds, Sian and Chrissie bringing up the rear. I had not lost hope of finding and saving Mina; I ran so fast that we were halfway towards the Forest before we were brought up short again.

The air around us had frozen: my breath caught and solidified in my chest. Shapes moved out of the darkness, swirling figures of concentrated blackness with large, blood red eyes, moving in a great wave towards the castle, their faces hooded, their wings making a droning buzzing sound and their breath rattling …

Chris, Sian and Chrissie closed in beside me as the sounds of fighting behind us grew suddenly muted, deadened, because a silence only Stingers could bring was falling thickly through the night …

"Come on, Kiara!" said Chris' voice, from a very long way away. "Patronuses, Kiara, come on!"

I raised my wand, but a dull hopelessness was spreading through me: Tanya was gone, and Mina was surely dying or already dead; how many more lay dead that I did not yet know about; I felt as though my soul had already half left my body …

"KIARA, COME ON!" shouted Chris.

A hundred Stingers were advancing, gliding towards us, sucking their way closer to my despair, which was like a promise of a feast …

I saw Chrissie's silver terrier burst into the air, flicker feebly and expire; I saw Chris and Sian's lion and lioness land on the ground and fade, and my own wand trembled in my hand, and I almost welcomed the oncoming oblivion, the promise of nothing, of no feeling …

And then a silver hare, a poodle, a bear and a fox soared past mine, Chris, Sian and Chrissie's heads: the Stingers fell back before the creatures' approach. Four more people had arrived out of the darkness to stand beside us, their wands outstretched, continuing to cast their Patronuses: Lincoln, Keziah, Emily and Zara.

"That's right," said Lincoln encouragingly, as if we were back in the Room of Needs and this was simply spell practice for the CA. "That's right, Kiara … come on, think of something happy …"

"Something happy?" I said, my voice cracked.

"We're all still here," he whispered, "we're still fighting. Come on, now …"

There was a silver spark, then a wavering light, and then, with the greatest effort it had ever cost me, the lioness burst from the end of my wand. It padded forwards, and now the Stingers scattered in earnest, and immediately the night was mild again, but the sounds of the surrounding battle were loud in my ears.

"Can't thank you enough," said Chrissie shakily, turning to Lincoln, Keziah, Emily and Zara, "you just saved - "

With a roar and an earthquaking tremor, another giant came lurching out of the darkness from the direction of the Forest, brandishing a club taller than any of us.

"RUN!" I shouted again, but the others needed no telling: we all scattered, and not a second too soon, for the next moment the creature's vast foot had fallen exactly where we had been standing. I looked round: Chris, Sian and Chrissie were following me, but the other four had vanished back into the battle.

"Let's get out of range!" yelled Chrissie, as the giant swung its club again and its echoes bellowed through the night, across the grounds where bursts of red and green light continued to illuminate the darkness.

"The Bashing Tree!" I said. "Go!"

Somehow I walled it all up in my mind, crammed it into a small space into which I could not look now: thoughts of Tanya and Mina, and my terror for all the people I loved, scattered in and outside the castle, must all wait, because we had to run, had to reach the snake, and Zira, because that was, as Sian said, the only way to end it -

I sprinted, half believing I could outdistance death itself, ignoring the jets of light flying in the darkness all around me, and the sound of the river crashing like the sea, and the creaking of the Black Forest though the night was windless, through grounds that seemed, themselves to have risen in rebellion, I ran faster than I had ever moved in my life, and it was I who saw the great tree first, the Tree that protected its secret at the roots with whip-like, slashing branches.

Panting and gasping, I slowed down, skirting the Tree's swiping branches, peering through the darkness towards its thick trunk, trying to see the single knot in the bark of the old tree that would paralyse it. Chris, Sian and Chrissie caught up, Chris so out of breath that he couldn't speak.

"How - how're we going to get in?" panted Chrissie. "I can - see the place - if we just had - Lucifer again - "

"Lucifer?" wheezed Sian, bent double, clutching her chest. _"Are you a witch, or what?"_

"Yeah, sister," panted Chris, "use your brain - for once - in your life - "

"Oh - right - yeah - "

Chrissie looked around, then directed her wand at a twig on the ground and said, _"Wingardium Leviosa!"_ The twig flew up from the ground, spun through the air as if caught by a gust of wind, then zoomed directly at the trunk through the Tree's ominously swaying branches. It jabbed at a place near the roots and at once, the writhing Tree became still.

"Perfect!" panted Sian.

"Wait."

For one teetering second, while the crashes and booms of the battle filled the air, I hesitated. Zira wanted me to do this, wanted me to come … was I leading Chris, Sian and Chrissie into a trap?

But then the reality seemed to close upon me, cruel and plain: the only way forwards was to kill the snake, and the snake was where Zira was, and Zira was at the end of this tunnel …

"Kiara, we're coming, just get in there!" said Chrissie, pushing me forwards.

I wriggled into the earthy passage hidden in the Tree's roots. It was a much tighter squeeze than it had been the last time we had entered it. The tunnel was low-ceilinged: we had to double up to move through it nearly four years previously, now there was nothing for it but to crawl. I went first, my wand illuminated, expecting at any moment to meet barriers, but none came. We moved in silence, my gaze fixed upon the swinging beam of the wand held in my fist.

At last the tunnel began to slope upwards and I saw a sliver of light ahead. Sian tugged at my ankle.

"The Cloak!" she whispered. "Put the Cloak on!"

I groped behind me and she forced the bundle of slippery cloth into my free hand. With difficulty I dragged it over myself, murmured, _"Nox,"_ extinguishing my wandlight, and continued on my hands and knees, as silently as possible, all my senses straining, expecting every second to be discovered, to hear a cold clear voice, see a flash of green light.

And then I heard voices coming from the room directly ahead of us, only slightly muffled by the fact that the opening at the end of the tunnel had been blocked up by what looked like an old crate. Hardly daring to breathe, I edged right up to the opening and peered through a tiny gap left between crate and wall.

The room beyond was dimly lit, but I could see Namzo, swirling and coiling like a serpent underwater, safe in his enchanted, starry sphere, which floated unsupported in mid-air. I could see the edge of a table, and a long-fingered, white hand toying with a wand. Then Triphorm spoke, and my heart lurched: Triphorm was inches away from where I crouched, hidden.

" … my Lady, their resistance is crumbling - "

" - and it is doing so without your help," said Zira, in her high, clear voice. "Skilled witch though you are, Tiana, I do not think you will make much difference now. We are almost there … almost."

"Let me find the girl. Let me bring you Pride-Lander. I know I can find her, my Lady. Please."

Triphorm strode past the gap, and I drew back a little, keeping my eyes fixed upon Namzo, wondering whether there was any spell that might penetrate the protection surrounding him, but I could not think of anything. One failed attempt, and I would give away my position …

Zira stood up. I could see her now, see the red eyes, the flattened, serpentine face, the pallor of her gleaming slightly in the semi-darkness.

"I have a problem, Tiana," said Zira softly.

"My Lady?" said Triphorm.

Zira raised the Stick of Fear, holding it as delicately and precisely as a conductor's baton.

"Why doesn't it work for me, Tiana?"

In the silence, I imagined I could hear the snake hissing slightly as it coiled and uncoiled, or was it Zira's sibilant sigh lingering on the air.

"My - my Lady?" said Triphorm blankly. "I do not understand. You - you have performed extraordinary magic with that wand."

"No," said Zira. "I have performed my usual magic. I am extraordinary, but this wand … no. It had not revealed the wonders it has promised. I feel no difference between this wand and the one I procured from Ollivander all those years ago."

Zira's tone was musing, calm, but my scar had begun to throb and pulse: pain was building in my forehead and I could feel that controlled sense of fury building inside Zira.

"No difference," said Zira again.

Triphorm did not speak. I could not see her face: I wondered whether Triphorm could sense danger, was trying to find the right words, to reassure her mistress.

Zira started to move around the room: I lost sight of her for a few seconds as she prowled, speaking in that same measured voice, while the pain and fury mounted in me.

"I have thought long and hard, Tiana … do you know why I have called you back from the battle?"

And for a moment I saw Triphorm's profile: her eyes were fixed upon the coiling snake in its enchanted cage.

"No, my Lady, but I beg you will let me return. Let me find Pride-Lander."

"You sound like Narissa. Neither of you understands Pride-Lander as I do. She does not need finding. Pride-Lander will come to me. I know her weakness, you see, her one great flaw. She will hate watching the others struck down around her, knowing that it is for her that it happens. She will want to stop it at any cost. She will come."

"But my Lady, she might be killed accidentally by one other than yourself - "

"My instructions to my Love Destroyers have been perfectly clear. Capture Pride-Lander - and her parents. Kill her friends - the more, the better - but do not kill her.

"But it is of you I wished to speak, Tiana, not Kiara Pride-Lander. You have been very valuable to me. Ver valuable."

"My Lady knows I seek only to serve her. But - let me go and find the girl, my Lady. Let me bring her to you. I know I can - "

"I have told you, no!" said Zira, and I caught the glint of red in her eyes as she turned again, and the swishing of her cloak was like the slithering of a snake, and I felt Zira's impatience in my burning scar. "My concern at the moment, Tiana, is what will happen when I finally meet the girl and her parents!"

"My Lady, there can be no question, surely - ?"

" - but there is a question, Tiana. There is."

Zira halted, and I could see her plainly again as she slid the Stick of Fear through her white fingers, staring at Triphorm.

"Why did both the wands I have used fail when directed at Kiara Pride-Lander?"

"I-I cannot answer that, my Lady."

"Can't you?"

The stab of rage felt like a spike driven through my head: I forced my own fist into my mouth to stop myself from crying out in pain. I closed my eyes, and suddenly I was Zira, looking into Triphorm's pale face.

"My wand of yew did everything I asked of it, Tiana, except to kill Kiara Pride-Lander. Twice it failed. Wandwick told me under torture of the twin cores, told me to take another's wand. I did so, but Narissa's wand shattered upon meeting Pride-Lander's."

"I-I have no explanation, my Lady."

Triphorm was not looking at Zira now. Her icy eyes were still fixed upon their coiling serpent in its protective sphere.

"I sought a third wand, Tiana. The Stick of Fear, the Deathtwig, the Elder Wand. I took it from its previous mistress. I took it from the grave of Susan Crighton."

And now Triphorm looked at Zira, and Triphorm's face was like a death mask. It was marble white and so still that when she spoke it was a shock to see that anyone lived behind the blank eyes.

"My Lady - let me go to the girl - "

"All this long night, when I am on the brink of victory, I have sat here," said Zira, her voice barely louder than a whisper, "wondering, wondering why the Stick of Fear refuses to be what it ought to be, rules to perform as legend says it must perform for its rightful owner … and I think I have the answer."

Triphorm did not speak, and in the silence a sudden chill seemed to vibrate through Zira, and she smiled to herself, for she knew what that meant: _my followers have them_. She smiled cruelly to herself, but meeting them would have to wait. Zira had to deal with Triphorm first.

"Perhaps you already know it? You are a clever woman, after all, Tiana. You have been a good and faithful servant, and I regret what must happen."

"My Lady - "

"The Stick of Fear cannot serve me properly, Tiana, because I am not its true mistress. The Stick of Fear belongs to the witch who killed its last owner. You killed Susan Crighton. While you live, Tiana, the Stick of Fear cannot be truly mine."

"My Lady!" Triphorm protested, raising her wand.

"It cannot be any other way," said Zira. "I must master the wand, Tiana. Master the wand, and I master Pride-Lander at last."

And Zira swiped the air with the Stick of Fear. It did nothing to Triphorm, who for a split second seemed to think she had been reprieved: but then Zira's intention became clear. The snake's cage was rolling through the air, and before Triphorm could do anything more than yell, it had encased her, head and shoulders, and Zira spoke in Parseltongue.

 _"Kill."_

There was a terrible scream. I saw Triphorm's face losing the little colour it had left, it whitened as her icy blue eyes widened, as the snake's fangs pierced her neck, as she failed to push the enchanted cage off herself, as her knees gave way, and she fell to the floor.

"I regret it," said Zira coldly.

She turned away; there was no sadness in her, no remorse. It was time to leave this hovel and take charge, with a wand that would now do her full bidding. She pointed it at the starry cage holding the snake, which drifted upwards, off Triphorm, who fell sideways on to the floor, blood gushing from the wounds in her neck. Zira swept from the room without a backwards glance, and the great serpent floated after her in its huge protective sphere.

Back in the tunnel and my own mind, I opened my eyes: I had drawn blood, biting down on my knuckles in the effort not to shout out. My stomach was clenching rather painfully: I did not know who the Love Destroyers had captured, but I had a hunch as to who it could be, and the thought sent a chill of dread right through me, hoping against hope that it was not who I thought it was. Now I was looking through the tiny crack between crate and wall, watching a foot in a black boot trembling on the floor.

"Kiara!" breathed Sian behind me, but I had already pointed my wand at the crate blocking my view. It lifted an inch into the air and drifted sideways, silently. As quietly as I could, I pulled myself up into the room.

I did not know why I was doing it, why I was approaching the dying woman: I did not know what I felt as I saw Triphorm's white face, and the fingers trying to staunch the bloody wound at her neck. I took off the Invisibility Cloak and looked down upon the woman I hated, whose widening blue eyes found mine as she tried to speak. Her eyes then darted to someone behind me, and I saw Triphorm looking remorseful at whoever it was, her eyes begging them for forgiveness. Turning round, I saw that I was Sian she was looking at, who smiled gently but solemnly at her, shaking her head. I was bent over Triphorm by this point, and I had no idea what was going on between Sian and Triphorm, but before I could say anything, Triphorm had seized the front of my robes and pulled me close.

A terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from Triphorm's throat.

"Take … it … Take … it …"

Something more than blood was leaking from Triphorm. Silvery blue, neither gas nor liquid, it gushed from her mouth and her ears and her eyes, and I knew what it was, but I did not know what to do -

A flask, conjured from thin air, was thrust into my shaking hands by Sian. I lifted the silvery substance into it with my wand. When the flask was full to the brim, and Triphorm looked as though there was no blood left in her, her grip on my robes slackened.

"Look … at … me …" she whispered.

The amber eyes found the blue, but after a second something in the depths of the icy pair seemed to vanish, leaving them fixed, blank and empty. The hand holding me thudded to the floor, and Triphorm moved no more.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN 1: WARNING: There are some major character deaths in this chapter, and a really big character will die in a really sad way, so have your tissues ready for it. I will explain one of them at the end of this chapter, but I should say here "sorry, spoiler alert!) that I am sorry for Ron and all of you who are big Ron fans out there. I hope you can forgive me, and I hope that you will enjoy this chapter as much as you can.**

 **Chapter 12**

 **The Princess' Tale**

 **KIARA**

I remained kneeling at Triphorm's side, simply staring down at her, until my scar burned fiercely again. I clamped my hand over my scar as I shut my eyes, and instantly I was Zira, who was no longer in the Howling House, but the Black Forest: trees circled her in the clearing where she stood, all of them covered in large, thick, sticky webs. The monstrous spiders were also there with Mina in their midst, and at Zira's side was Namzo, still coiling and uncoiling in his protective sphere, but Zira was not focused on them: her attention was cast directly opposite where she stood, past the fire burning in the middle, to where a woman with pale golden hair and large, round blue eyes, and a man with long tawny hair and light amber eyes stood.

 _No_ , I thought desperately, _no, please_ … _not now_ … _not now_ … _please_ … _no_ …

"So, Simba, Nala," said Zira softly, yet loud enough to be heard over the crackling of the flames, "here we are again. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

They said nothing. Zira laughed coldly, humourlessly.

"What's this? No sharp come back from the great Pride-Landers? I would have thought you'd have put up a better fight than this - "

"We know we're going to die," said Simba firmly. "We know that's why we have been brought here. Yet before we die, I would like to speak one last time, if I may?"

Zira smiled cruelly. This was utter foolishness, what the man was saying … he was going to be dead within minutes, anyway. Both of them were. But this was the last time they were going to be alive … so Zira said, "Very well, but make it quick. The sooner you are done talking, the sooner you die …"

Simba and Nala both glared at her, but Simba said curtly, "Fine." Then, looking straight at Zira, he said, "I just want Kiara to know that no matter what happens to us, that we are proud of her and will never truly leave her. And that we will not die in vain, for Kiara will finish the job. That I'm sure of."

"Yes," Nala added, "and Kiara should never forget that we will always love her, and that she should never forget about us, for we will be waiting for her."

Simba and Nala were both smiling as they spoke, and Zira smiled at their foolish sentiments, and I could feel Zira's impatience burning in my scar, and as she raised her wand, my panic increased tenfold, as my parents held each other, their eyes closed, my father's head on my mother's shoulder, and my mother's face buried in my father's chest, and then, Zira uttered the curse:

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

There was a flash of green light that filled the entire clearing, hitting the two Pride-Landers at once, and they fell backwards, still holding on to each other in a loving embrace, never to move again.

"NOOOOOOO!" screamed the oaf, crying, struggling against the bonds that held her, her cry of despair echoing in the trees surrounding them, which only made Zira laugh maliciously, satisfied that two out of three Pride-Landers had been disposed of.

Zira then turned to Namzo and said quietly to him, "That should get the girl's attention, shouldn't it, Namzo?" She laughed again, waiting for her enemy … but in order to get her attention, she decided to address the school again …

Back in my own mind and body, I opened my eyes, gazing down on Triphorm's dead body but not really seeing it, the flask of her memories clutched in my trembling hands as tears of rage and sadness streamed down my cheeks. I could not believe what Zira had just done. After all this time, she had done it. A small part of me kept screaming _it can't be true, it just can't be true!_ Yet I did not even try to deny it as much as I wanted to. Zira had done it at last. She had killed them. My parents were dead.

I then felt a pair of strong arms encircle me, turning to face him: over Chris' shoulder, I saw Sian and Chrissie look at me concernedly, as Chris was saying, "Kiara, what is it? What's happened?" But I just shook my head. I could not speak. How was I supposed to tell them what had happened?

And then, quite suddenly, a high, cold voice spoke so close to us that I jumped to my feet, disengaging myself from Chris' arms, wiping my tears away hastily, the flask gripped tightly in my hands still, thinking that Zira had re-entered the room, forgetting, momentarily, that she was down in the Forest.

Zira's voice reverberated from the walls and the floor, and I realised she was talking to Dragon Mort and to all the surrounding area, that the residents of Dragsmeade and all those still fighting in the castle would hear her as clearly as if she stood beside them, her breath on the back of their necks, a death blow away.

"You have fought," said the high, cold voice, "valiantly. Lady Zira knows how to value bravery.

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste.

"Lady Zira is merciful. I command my forces to retreat, immediately.

"You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"Kiara Pride-Lander, I now speak directly to you. You have permitted your friends - and your parents - to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait one hour in the Black Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Kiara Pride-Lander, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Chris, Sian and Chrissie all looked at me, shock, sadness and outrage written all over their faces. I started crying again. I couldn't help it. Chris enveloped me in his arms, and I fell into his embrace eagerly, needing his strength, his warmth and his love more than ever.

A loud bang made Chris, Chrissie and I jump and look round: Sian, in her anger, had kicked a chair over, not that I could blame her.

"Sorry," she said hastily, looking at Chris, Chrissie and I apologetically. "It's just that … you were so close to being a proper family again, Kiara … and now …" Sian shook her head solemnly, then said, "Let's get back to the castle, shall we? If she's gone into the Forest, we'll need to think of a new plan - "

Sian then waved her wand, and from the tip a thick white sheet slithered into the air, which she caught. Sian then put it over Triphorm's body, covering every inch of it with the sheet. Once done, she stood back up, bowed her head, then hurried back to the tunnel entrance. Chrissie followed her. Chris went to the entrance and stopped there, turning to me as I gathered up the Invisibility Cloak, then looked down at Triphorm. I did not know what to feel, except shock at the way Triphorm had been killed, and the reason for which it had been done …

We crawled back through the tunnel, none of us talking, and I wondered whether Chris, Sian and Chrissie could still hear Zira ringing in their heads, as I could.

 _You have permitted your friends - and your parents - to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Black Forest … one hour …_

Small bundles seemed to litter the lawn at the front of the castle. It could only be an hour or so from dawn, yet it was pitch black. The four of us hurried towards the stone steps. A lone club, the size of a small boat, lay abandoned in front of us/ There was no other sign of Harlow or her attacker.

The castle was unnaturally silent. There were no flashes of light now, no bangs or screams or shouts. The flagstones of the deserted Entrance Hall were stained with blood. Emeralds were still scattered all over the floor along with pieces of marble and splintered wood. Part of the banisters had been blown away.

"Where is everyone?" whispered Chrissie.

Sian led the way to the Great Hall. I stopped in the doorway.

The house tables were gone and the room was crowded. The survivors stood in groups, their arms around each other's necks. The injured were being treated up on the raised platform by Matron and a group of helpers. Fauna was amongst the injured; her flank, from what I could see of it, poured blood and she shook where she lay, unable to stand. Many of Elyon's army were inured too, and were being carried on to the platform where Elyon stood waiting for them, some with limbs bent at weird angles, others with blood gushing out of their eyes, heads and chests, spattering the floor and others around them.

The dead lay in a row in the middle of the Hall. I could not see Tanya's body, because her family surrounded her. Geri was kneeling at her head and the Dawsons stood in a half-circle around them, almost blocking them from view.

Without a word to me, Chris, Sian and Chrissie walked away. As soon as Sian got near enough to them, the other Dawson siblings and Mr Dawson hugged her, Chris and Chrissie together, including Joey. As they pulled together around Tanya, Geri, Sam, Ferdinand and Perdy again, I had a clear view of the bodies lying next to Tanya: Timon and Todd, pale and still peaceful-looking, apparently asleep beneath the dark, enchanted ceiling. And next to them, Kopa knelt beside a woman, whispering things to her. Looking up he saw me, beckoning me to come over at once.

Even from where I was standing I could see in Kopa's eyes that it was urgent, so I hurried over to where he knelt, my gut clenching with terror as I ran.

Kopa stood up once I reached him, and looking down I saw a woman who had blood freshly pouring out of wounds in her arms, legs and chest, and her hair was plastered to her face by even more blood. Her brown eyes found mine as she struggled to keep me in focus as she smiled, which looked more like a grimace, as she said feebly, "K-Kiara …"

"Grandmother Sarabi," I gasped softly, kneeling beside her and holding her hand in both my own.

I could tell that she was in a bad way from the way she was struggling to breathe, never mind her wounds, and the way her eyes were struggling to remain open. The tears rolled down my cheeks again, and once again I did not try to stop them, for not only had I lost my parents that night, but I was also going to lose Grandmother Sarabi, the woman who brought me back to the wizarding world, and one of the two women who raised me and treated me like her own daughter.

Grandmother Sarabi's free hand reached up and, shakily, touched my cheek.

"Don't cry, sweetie …" she rasped.

"I-I can't help it," I sobbed. "I've already lost D-Daddy and Mum t-tonight, and n-now I-I'm going to lose you, t-too."

Grandmother Sarabi smiled at me gently. "I know … sweetie. I … know." Then her expression turned serious as her breathing was coming in great rasps now, "Listen to me … Kiara. You have been … so brave … through everything … but now … you must be … brave enough … to let me go. But know this … I am proud of … the … woman you … have become … and I love … you … very much. I will … always love … you … Kiara … and I … will always … be with you. And now … I can see … my Simba … and my … dear … Mufasa … again …"

There was silence through the Hall: every eye was focused on us, but I paid no attention to any of them, focusing only on my dying grandmother. I then watched as she smiled peacefully, looking more peaceful than she had in a long time. Then her eyes closed and the hand cupping my cheek dropped to the floor, as Grandmother Sarabi took her last breath.

I remained sitting there, shocked that this amazing woman had died, before my head fell on her chest and I cried even harder. I then felt a pair of strong, warm arms surround me and pull me to him, and I let Chris do this, because I needed his touch and his love now more than ever before.

I did not know how long I stayed like that in Chris' arms, but eventually I pulled myself out, dried my eyes and got to my feet.

"Kiara?" said Chris, concerned, getting to his feet too. "What are you - ?"

"I need some time alone, that's all," I said, looking at him. "Please?"

He nodded and stepped back. I smiled at him gratefully, and just as I was turning away, Sian ran over and hugged me. We held each other for a few moments, and as she let me go I felt her put something in my hand. I knew immediately what it was, so I smiled my thanks. She smiled back and gave a curt nod before returning to her family.

I ran out of the Great Hall, passing the fallen body of Keziah Rea-Bradley, as well as that of Ron Weasley, who was being surrounded by Harry, Ginny and Hermione, amongst the countless others who were dead … not daring to look back and see who else who had died for me …

I felt a solemn sort of relief as I reached the marble staircase. Meers, Todd, Grandmother Sarabi, my parents … I yearned not to feel … I wish I could rip out my heart, my innards, everything that was screaming inside me …

The castle was completely empty; even the ghosts seemed to have joined the mass mourning in the Great Hall. I ran without stopping, clutching the crystal flask of Triphorm's last thoughts, and I did not slow down until I reached the glass elevator somewhere on the second floor.

I put the token Sian had given me in the slot, stepped inside, told it to take me to the Headmistress' office, and grabbed on to a hook as the doors closed, letting out a scream of pure agony and rage for all that I had lost that night as it sped off around the school.

I paid no attention to the damage done on the castle. My mind was entirely focused on seeing Crighton, because she was the woman I yearned to see.

But when I got out of the elevator and entered the circular office, I found a change. The portraits that hung all around the walls were empty. Not a single headmaster or headmistress remained to see me; all, it seemed, had flitted away, charging through the paintings that lined the castle, so that they could have a clear view of what was going on.

I glanced hopelessly at Crighton's deserted frame, which hung directly behind the Headmistress' chair, then I turned my back on it. The stone Pensieve lay in the cabinet where it had always been: I heaved it on to the desk and poured Triphorm's memories into the wide basin with its runic markings around the edge. To escape into someone else's head would be a blessed relief … nothing that even Triphorm had left me could be worse than my own thoughts. The memories swirled, silver-white and strange, and without hesitating, with a feeling of restless abandonment, as though this would assuage my torturing grief, I dived.

I fell headlong into sunlight, and my feet found warm ground. When I straightened up, I saw that I was in a nearly deserted playground. A single, huge chimney dominated the distant skyline. A boy was swinging backwards and forwards on a single swing, and a skinny girl was watching him from behind a clump of bushes. Her strawberry-blonde hair was overlong and her clothes were so mismatched that it looked deliberate: a dress that was much too short and an overlarge coat that might have belonged to a grown woman.

I moved closer to the girl. Triphorm looked no more than nine or ten years old, sallow, small, stringy. There was an undisguised greed in her thin face as she watched the boy swinging higher and higher, until he finally let go of the swing that the very height of its arc and flew into the air, quite literally flew, launched himself skywards with a great shout of laughter, and instead of crumpling on the playground asphalt, he soared, like a trapeze artists through the air, staying up far too long, landing far too lightly.

The boy smiled and laughed to himself, clearly pleased with what he had just done, his light brown eyes sparkling with glee, his tawny hair being whipped in the breeze. My father was just as tall and handsome as a boy as he was a man, and I smiled at seeing him so alive, so carefree, something I had never really seen before.

But his happiness quickly evaporated as a twig snapped somewhere close by: Triphorm had accidentally trodden on it. My father looked around cautiously, as though afraid that he was going to be attacked at any moment.

"H-hello?" he said nervously, trying to see through the bushes from whence the sound had come, and trying with all his might to look tough but somehow not quite managing it. Triphorm crouched down, not wanting to be seen. Young Simba, getting no answer, then said, "Who's there?"

Triphorm, knowing that she could not stay hidden forever, stood up, walked out of the bushes and said gently, "Hello."

Young Simba said nothing, merely staring at Triphorm. After a moment or two Triphorm said, "I've been watching you, you know."

Young Simba narrowed his eyes at her words, crossing his arms defensively. "Is that so?" he growled.

Triphorm, sensing hostility, said quickly, "It's OK. I know you're a wizard."

Young Simba's eyes widened in shock. He gulped, then said nervously, "How do you know that?"

In response, Triphorm said nothing, but merely picked up a stray leaf and flicked it, so that it became a leafy insect, and made it fly to where young Simba was standing, who looked shocked and amazed at the magic he was seeing. Young Simba then held out a finger as the leafy insect landed on it, and then he and Triphorm shared a smile.

"Hi, I'm Simba."

"Tiana."

Triphorm then looked at young Simba curiously and said, "You're not from Britain, are you?"

Young Simba shrugged innocently and said, "How could you tell?"

"Your accent."

He laughed at that and said, "I'm originally from South Africa, but … I couldn't stay there any more."

Seeing how uncomfortable and sad young Simba looked, Triphorm said quickly, "It's OK, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. Where d'you live now, anyway?"

Young Simba cast her a grateful smile and said, "Not far from here. Professor Crighton's my guardian."

"Really?" said Triphorm, surprised.

"Mhm. She found me when no one else did, and I was in pretty poor shape at the time, but she rescued mem brought me here and has looked after me. I stay with her during the summer, Christmas and Easter holidays. The rest of the time, though, I stay with her sister, Sara, at the Dragon's Eyes."

Just then a soft musical voice called through the trees, "Simba?"

"Coming!" he called to Crighton. Young Simba then turned back to Triphorm and said, "I have to go now, but it was nice meeting you."

"You too!" Triphorm called to young Simba's retreating back, and she smiled to herself, seemingly happy that something had gone her way for once …

The scene dissolved, and before I knew it, reformed around me. I was now in a small thicket of trees. I could see a sunlit river glittering through their trunks. Two shadows cast by the trees made a basin of cool, green shade. Two children sat facing each other, cross-legged on the ground. Triphorm had removed her coat now; her frayed dress looked less peculiar in the half-light.

Young Simba was twirling a twig around in his hands, and I could tell that he was imagining it as a wand with sparks shooting out of it. Suddenly he cast the twig aside and said, "I wish I was at Dragon Mort now."

Triphorm smirked at him and said, "Not long until it's our turn. You'll see."

"Wish it could come quicker, though," said young Simba sulkily, and I almost laughed at that, remembering my own eagerness to go to Dragon Mort, and wishing that the time would go faster. His expression quickly turned apprehensive as he asked, "Does it make a difference, being a bright-brain?"

Triphorm hesitated. Her icy-blue eyes, eager in the greenish gloom, moved over the dark face, the tawny hair.

"No," she said. "It doesn't make any difference."

"Good," said young Simba, relaxing: it was clear that he had been worrying.

"It doesn't matter about how bright you are," said Triphorm. "You're brilliant, anyway. I saw it, all the magic you could do. All the time when I was watching you …"

Her voice trailed away; he was no longer listening, but had stretched out on the leafy ground and was looking up at the canopy of leaves overhead. She watched him as greedily as she had watched him in the playground.

"How are things at your house?" young Simba asked.

A little crease appeared between her eyes.

"Fine," she said.

"They're not arguing any more?"

"Oh, yes, they're arguing," said Triphorm. She picked up a fistful of leaves and began tearing them apart, apparently unaware of what she was doing. "But it won't be that long and I'll be gone."

"Doesn't your dad like magic?"

"He doesn't like anything, much," said Triphorm.

"Tiana?"

A little smile twisted Triphorm's mouth when he said her name.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me about the Dementors again."

"What d'you want to know about them for?"

"If I use magic outside school - "

"They wouldn't give you to the Dementors for that! Dementors are for people who do really bad stuff. They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban. You're not going to end up in Azkaban. You're too good for that place."

Young Simba smiled gratefully at Triphorm. She smiled back, before her expression became confused and she asked him, "But why are you asking me this stuff? Didn't your mum and dad tell you all this already?"

Young Simba's face turned guarded and sad as he turned his face away from Triphorm, who looked guilty and said quickly, "I'm sorry - I didn't - "

"It's OK," he said, smiling grimly. Then he shot straight back up again, startling Triphorm, and looking at her seriously he said, "No matter what happens, we'll always look out for each other, won't we?"

Triphorm looked lost for words, but after a few moments she said, "Of course."

"You promise?"

Young Simba held up his pinkie finger.

Triphorm looked at the finger for a few seconds, then she smiled at him and said, "I promise," and hooked her pinkie with his.

Their pinkies still hooked together, they started swaying their arms, making the two youngsters laugh together in their own hidden corner of the world …

And the scene reformed. I looked around: I was in the Sub House, and Triphorm stood beside me, slightly hunched, next to a thin, sallow-faced, sour-looking woman who greatly resembled her. Triphorm was staring at young Simba a short distance away, who was hiding behind a pillar from four people further along: two girls, one with pale golden hair, the other with mousy brown hair, who seemed to be arguing, and two tall women, one blonde, the other brunette, who were looking around in wonder. Triphorm looked curiously at young Simba and began to approach him. I followed.

"Hey, Simba!" she said loudly when she was next to him.

Young Simba jumped and span round. Seeing that it was Triphorm, he sighed, relieved, put a hand over his heart and said, "Oh, hi, Tiana! And please keep your voice down! They can't know I'm here!" he added, jerking his head to the family of four.

Triphorm looked back at them, then at young Simba, confused.

"So what? What's the big deal? Who are they to you?"

Young Simba looked conflicted for a moment, then sighed and said, "OK, I'll tell you, but you've got to promise me you won't say anything, OK?"

"Sure," said Triphorm at once.

"Well," said young Simba, "that blonde haired girl is Nala Home, my first friend back at my old home. The girl she's fighting with is Mavuto, her sister, and the blonde haired woman is her mum, Sarafina, she's a Muggle. Nala's a Muggle-born, you see."

"Really?" said Triphorm through tight lips, glaring at the young Nala. "She seems to be coming with us. You know she's going to find out about you being here sooner or later."

"I know," young Simba sighed.

"Then why are you hiding here?"

"Because that brown haired woman is my mum," he said, "and she, and the rest of them over there, believe me to be dead."

Triphorm was shocked by this news, and so was I: in all the time I had known my father, not once had I ever heard such bitterness in his voice, and nor, it seemed, had Triphorm.

She looked sorry for him. "Simba, I'm sorry. But why didn't you say anything to me? Or them?"

"It's complicated," young Simba said sullenly, not looking at her. "I'll see you on the sub, Tiana."

And he got hold of his trunk and walked away, leaving Triphorm where she was, looking guilty, confused and alone, as behind her Mavuto shrieked at Nala, _"Freak!"_ , then flounced off to her mother …

The scene dissolved again. Triphorm was hurrying along the corridor of the First-Year Sub as it moved swiftly under the sea. She had already changed into her school robes, had perhaps taken the opportunity to take off her dreadful Muggle clothes. At last she stopped in the middle of a rowdy compartment. Then, spotting a tawny haired boy staring glumly out of the window, she headed over to him and squeezed into the seat opposite him. He glanced at her, then looked away.

"I'm sorry for pushing earlier," Triphorm told him.

Young Simba just shrugged.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't think it was important," young Simba muttered.

"Look, I won't tell anyone, I promise," said Triphorm. "And I won't push again until you're ready to talk, OK?"

Young Simba smiled gratefully at her. Triphorm, looking relieved that they were on good terms again said, unable to suppress the exhilaration in her voice, "But we're finally going! This is it! We're off to Dragon Mort!"

He nodded, smiling slightly in spite of himself.

"You'd better be in Snake-Eyes," said Triphorm, encouraged that he had brightened a little.

"Snake-Eyes?"

The pale-blonde haired girl sitting next to young Simba, who had shown no interest at all in Triphorm or young Simba until that point, looked round at the word, and my heart twisted painfully at the sight of my mother, Nala, in her youth. But her attention was quickly focused on young Simba. She blinked rapidly a few times, then her smile widened.

"Simba? Is that really you?" she said in disbelief.

He nodded, shrugging modestly. Young Nala's smile widened as she punched young Simba on the arm.

"Ow! That hurt!" he said playfully, rubbing his arm.

Young Nala laughed and said, "I'm sorry, Simba. I'm just so glad to see you again! I've really missed you!"

"I've missed you too!" young Simba said, and the two friends hugged. Triphorm was watching this through very narrowed eyes, her expression sullen.

After some time, the two friends let go of each other, both of them studying the other, wanting to absorb every detail.

"Wow, I can't believe you're really here!" young Nala said at last. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Professor Crighton brought me to England a few years ago," young Simba told her. "She's been taking care of me for the past few years now."

"Wow," breathed young Nala, looking impressed, which quickly turned to confusion. "Why haven't you contacted us to tell us that you're alive? Or come home?"

"Professor Crighton thought it best not to," young Simba answered swiftly.

"Well when we get to school, first thing tomorrow I'm going to write to Mum and tell her about this."

Young Simba looked panic-stricken at this. "What? No! You can't do that!"

Young Nala looked taken aback by his reaction. "Why not, Simba? They all deserve to know. You do know that everyone back home believes you to be - ?"

"Of course I do, she told me!" young Simba spat. "But it would complicate things if anyone knew. Please, Nala? Please don't tell!"

Young Nala looked at him closely for a few moments, then said, "All right, I won't. But you really should."

Young Simba sighed, relieved. "Thank you, Nala."

Young Nala nodded at him, then turned her attention back on Triphorm and said sneeringly, "So Simba, how do you know the girl who wants to be in Snake-Eyes?"

Triphorm scowled. "My name is Tiana Triphorm," she said through gritted teeth.

Young Nala rolled her eyes at this, as young Simba said, "Don't, Nala. Tiana is my friend."

Young Nala gave a bark of laughter. "Ha! Friend? With a Snake-Eyes girl?" she sneered. "Who wants to be in Snake-Eyes? I'd leave, wouldn't you?" she asked the boy sitting opposite her, and with a jolt, I realised that it was Pumbaa, who did not smile.

"My whole family have been in Snake-Eyes," he said.

"Blimey," said Nala, "and I thought you seemed all right, talking to you just now!"

Pumbaa grinned.

"Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

"I do hope it'll be Lion-Heart," said young Nala excitedly. "From what I've heard about it, it sounds like my house."

Triphorm made a small, disparaging noise. Young Nala turned on her.

"Got a problem with that?"

"No," said Triphorm, though her slight sneer said otherwise. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy - "

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" said Pumbaa.

Nala roared with laughter. Simba sat up, looking annoyed as he looked from Nala to Pumbaa in dislike.

"Come on, Tiana, let's find another compartment."

"Oooooo …"

Nala and Pumbaa imitated his lofty voice; Nala tried to trip Triphorm up.

"See ya, Tripey!" a voice called, as they walked away …

And the scene dissolved once more …

I was stood right behind Triphorm as we faced the teacher's table, in front of which was the stool with the four Sorting-Heads hovering just before it. Then Professor Darbus said, "Pride-Lander, Simba!"

I watched my father walk forwards on trembling legs and sit down upon the rickety stool. Once he had sat upon the stool, he looked up at the four heads nervously, and a second later the Lion-Head let out an almighty "ROAR!"

I heard Triphorm let out a tiny groan. Young Simba jumped off the stool, relieved, then hurried towards the cheering Lion-Hearts, but as he went he glanced back at Triphorm, and there was a sad little smile on his face. I saw Young Nala move up the bench to make room for him. He took one look at her, shot her a look of disgust, folded his arms and firmly turned his back on her.

The roll call continued. I watched as, at last, when only a dozen students remained to be Sorted, Professor Darbus called Triphorm.

I walked with her to the stool, watched her sit on it and look up at the Sorting-Heads, waiting. "HISS!" cried the Snake-Head.

And Tiana Triphorm moved off to the other side of the Hall, away from young Simba, to where the Snake-Eyes were cheering her, to where Narissa Warts, a Prefect badge gleaming upon her chest, patted Triphorm on the back as she sat down beside her …

And the scene changed …

Young Simba and Triphorm were walking across the castle courtyard, evidently arguing. I hurried to catch up with them, to listen in. As I reached them, I realised how much taller they both were: a few years seemed to have passed since their Sorting.

"... thought we were supposed to be friends?" Triphorm was saying. "Best friends?"

"We _are_ , Tia, but I don't like some of the people you're hanging around with! I'm sorry, but I detest Aakster and Magro! _Magro!_ What do you see in her, Tia? She's creepy? D'you know what she tried to do to Martin MacConnell the other day?"

Young Simba reached a pillar and leaned against it, looking down into the thin, sallow face.

"That was nothing," said Triphorm. "It was a laugh, that's all - "

"It was Dark Magic, and if you think that's funny - "

"What about the stuff Home and her mates get up to?" demanded Triphorm. Her colour rose again as she said it, unable, it seemed, to hold in her resentment.

"What's Home got to do with anything?" said young Simba.

"They sneak out at night. There's something weird about that Meers. Where does he keep going?"

"He's ill," said young Simba. "They say he's ill - "

"Every month at the full moon?" said Triphorm.

"I know your theory," said young Simba, and he sounded cold. "Why are you so obsessed with them, anyway? Why do you care what they're doing at night?"

"I'm just trying to show you they're not as wonderful as everyone seems to think they are."

The intensity of her gaze made him blush.

"They don't use Dark Magic, though." He dropped his voice. "And you're being really ungrateful. I heard what happened the other night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Bashing Tree and Nala saved you from whatever's down there - "

Triphorm's whole face contorted and she spluttered, "Saved? Saved? You think she was playing the hero? She was saving her neck and her friends' too! You're not going to - I won't let you - "

" _Let_ me? _Let_ me?"

Young Simba's light brown eyes were slits. Triphorm backtracked at once.

"I didn't mean - I just don't want to see you made a fool of - she fancies you, Nala Home fancies you!" The words seemed wrenched from her against her will. "And she's not … Everyone thinks … Big Quidditch hero - " Triphorm's bitterness and dislike were rendering her incoherent, and young Simba's eyebrows were travelling further and further up his forehead.

"I know Nala Home's an arrogant toerag," he said, cutting across Triphorm. "I don't need you to tell me that. But Magro and Aakster's idea of humour is just evil. _Evil_ , Tia. I don't understand how you can be friends with them."

I doubted that Triphorm had even heard his strictures on Magro and Aakster. The moment he had insulted Nala Home, her whole body had relaxed, and as they walked away there was a new spring in Triphorm's step …

And the scene dissolved …

I watched, again, as Triphorm left the Great Hall, after sitting her O.W.L. in Defence Against the Dark Arts, watched as she walked away from the castle and strayed, inadvertently, close to the place beneath the beech tree where young Nala, Pumbaa, Meers and Abster sat together. But I kept my distance this time, because I knew what happened after young Nala had hoisted Tiana into the air and taunted her, I knew what had been done and said, and it gave me no pleasure to hear it again. I watched, as young Simba joined the group and went to Triphorm's defence. Distantly I heard Triphorm shout at him in her humiliation and her fury, the unforgivable word: _"Sackbrain!"_

The scene changed …

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not interested."

"I'm sorry!"

"Save your breath."

It was night-time. Young Simba, who was wearing a dressing-gown, stood with his arms folded in front of the portrait of the Fat Lord, at the entrance to Lion-Heart Tower.

"I only came out because Martin told me you were threatening to sleep here."

"I was. I would have done. I never meant to call you Sackbrain, it just - "

"Slipped out?" There was no pity in Young Simba's voice. "It's too late. I've made excuses for you for years. None of my friends can understand why I even talk to you. You and your precious little Love Destroyer friends - you see, you don't even deny it! You don't even deny that's what you're all aiming to be! You can't wait to joint She-You-Know, can you?"

She opened her mouth, but closed it without speaking.

"I can't pretend any more. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine."

"No - listen, I didn't mean - "

" - to call me Sackbrain? But you call everyone else with high intelligence Sackbrain, Tiana. Why should I be any different? And one more thing," he added, disgust marring his features, "all those things you said to me years ago, about me not going to Azkaban, about it not making a difference as to whether I'm a bright-brain or not, and that we'd always look out for each other … that was all just words to you, wasn't it? None of it mattered to you … and I suppose that I never mattered to you, did I?"

She struggled on the verge of speech, but with a contemptuous look, and his eyes burning with unshed tears, he turned and climbed back through the portrait hole …

The corridor dissolved, and the scene took a little longer to reform: I seemed to fly through shapes and colours until my surroundings solidified again and I stood on a hilltop, forlorn and cold in the darkness, the wind whistling through the branches of a few leafless trees. The adult Triphorm was panting, turning on the spot, her wand gripped tightly in her hand, waiting for something or someone … her fear infected me, too, even though I knew that I could not be harmed, and I looked over my shoulder, wondering what it was that Triphorm was waiting for -

Then a blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air: I thought of lightning, but Triphorm had dropped to her knees and her wand had flown out of her hand.

"Don't kill me!"

"That was not my intention."

Any sound of Crighton Apparating had been drowned by the sound of the wind in the branches. She stood before Triphorm with her robes whipping around her, her glittering phoenix pendant looking like it was trying to fly for freedom in the wind, and her face was illuminated from below in the light cast by her wand.

"Well, Tiana? What message does Lady Zira have for me?"

"No - no message - I'm here of my own account!"

Triphorm was wringing her hands: she looked a little mad, with her straggling, strawberry-blonde hair flying around her.

"I-I come with a warning - no, a request - please - "

Crighton flicked her wand. Though leaves and branches still flew through the night air around them, silence fell on the spot where she and Triphorm faced each other.

"What request could a Love Destroyer make of me?"

"The - the prophecy … the prediction … Crystals …"

"Ah, yes," said Crighton. "How much did you relay to Lady Zira?"

"Everything - everything I heard!" said Triphorm. "That is why - it is for that reason - she thinks it means Simba Pride-Lander - !"

"The prophecy did not refer to a man," said Crighton. "It spoke of a girl born at the end of July - "

"You know what I mean! She thinks it means his daughter, she is going to hunt them down - kill them all - "

"If he means that much to you," said Crighton, "surely Lady Zira will spare him? Could you not ask for mercy for the father, in exchange for the daughter?"

"I have - I have asked her - "

"You disgust me," said Crighton, and I had never heard so much contempt in her voice. Triphorm seemed to shrink a little. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of his wife and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

Triphorm said nothing, but merely looked up at Crighton.

"Hide them all, then," she croaked. "Keep him - them - safe. Please."

"And what will you give me in return, Tiana?"

"In - in return?" Triphorm gaped at Crighton, and I expected her to protest, but after a long moment she said, "Anything."

The hilltop faded, and I stood in Crighton's office, and something was making a terrible sound, like a wounded animal. Triphorm was slumped forwards in a chair and Crighton was standing over her, looking grim. After a moment or two, Triphorm raised her face, and she looked like a woman who had lived a hundred years of misery since leaving the wild hilltop.

"I thought … you were going … to keep him - them … safe …"

"He and Nala put their faith in the wrong people," said Crighton. "Rather like you, Tiana. Weren't you hoping that Lady Zira would save him somehow?"

Triphorm's breathing was shallow as she answered, "Not … like … this …"

"His girl is free," said Crighton.

With a tiny jerk of the head, Triphorm seemed to flick off some irksome fly.

"His girl is free. She has his mouth, precisely his mouth. You remember the exact shape of Simba's mouth, I am sure?"

"DON'T!" bellowed Triphorm. "Gone … locked up … Azkaban …"

At Triphorm's yell, a baby in a cot by Crighton's desk that I had not noticed before woke up and started crying. Crighton went over to her, picked her up and made soothing, cooing noises, while bouncing the baby gently in her arms. It did not take long for the baby to fall back to sleep, and even after Sian had drifted off again, Crighton still held her, smiling lovingly down at her. After she had kissed Sian on the crown of her head, Crighton looked at Triphorm and gently asked, "Is this remorse, Tiana?"

"I wish … I wish _I_ were dead …"

"And what use would that be to anyone?" said Crighton coldly. "If you love Simba Pride-Lander, truly love him, then your way forward is clear."

Triphorm seemed to peer through a haze of pain, and Crighton's words appeared to take a long time to reach her.

"What - what do you mean?"

"You know how and why he and Nala got split from their daughter. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Simba's daughter."

"She does not need protection. The Scarlet Lady is gone - "

" - the Scarlet Lady will return, and Kiara Pride-Lander will be in terrible danger when she does."

There was a long pause, and slowly Triphorm regained control of herself, mastered her own breathing. At last she said, "Very well. Very well. But never - never tell, Crighton! This must be between us! I cannot bear … especially Simba's daughter … I want your word!"

"My word, Tiana, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" Crighton sighed, looking down into Triphorm's ferocious, anguished face. "If you insist …"

The office dissolved but re-formed instantly. Triphorm was pacing up and down in front of Crighton.

" - mediocre, arrogant as her mother, a determined rule-breaker, delighted to find herself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent - "

"I know, I don't like her, either," said a voice that belonged to a person sitting next to Crighton, a person whose icy tongue I had not heard as often in the past few years; and looking round, I saw that it was indeed Sian who had spoken, who was sat behind a desk right next to her mother's, seemingly doing homework of some kind.

"I neve knew your daughter was so wise, Susan," said Triphorm, still pacing.

"Get used to it," Sian shot back.

Triphorm stopped in her pacing for a moment and looked at Sian, thunderstruck, but Crighton chuckled and, looking up from her copy of _Transfiguration Today_ , she turned to Sian and said, "Oh, but you will, _magi_. You will."

"Humph! I doubt it," Sian scoffed, and I could not help but laugh at that, for how much had changed since those days …

Crighton shook her head, turning back to _Transfiguration Today_ , as Triphorm continued to pace, and said, "You see what you expect to see, Tiana. Other teachers report that the girl is modest, likeable and reasonably talented. Personally, I find her an engaging child."

Crighton turned a page, and said, without looking up, "Keep an eye on Quarrell, won't you?"

A whirl of colour, and now everything darkened, and Triphorm and Crighton stood a little apart in the Entrance Hall, while the last stragglers from the Yule Ball passed them on their way to bed.

"Well?" murmured Crighton.

"Kula's Trail is becoming darker too. She is panicking, she fears retribution; you know how much help she gave the Ministry after the Scarlet Lady fell." Triphorm looked sideways at Crighton's crooked-nosed profile. "Kula intends to flee if the Trail burns."

"Does she?" said Crighton softly, as Ferdinand Desjardin and Rita Davies came giggling in from the grounds. "And are you tempted to join her?"

"No," said Triphorm, her icy-blue eyes on Ferdinand and Rita's retreating backs. "I am not such a coward."

"No," agreed Crighton. "You are a braver woman by far than Ifu Kula. You know, I sometimes think we Sort too soon …"

She walked away, leaving Triphorm looking stricken …

And now I stood in the Headmistress' office yet again. It was night-time, and Crighton sagged sideways in the throne-like chair behind the desk, apparently semi-conscious. Her right hand dangled over the side, blackened and burned. Triphorm was muttering incantations, pointing her wand at the wrist of the hand, while with her left hand she tipped a goblet full of thick golden potion down Crighton's throat. After a moment or two, Crighton's eyelids fluttered open.

"Why," said Triphorm, without preamble, " _why_ did you put on that ring? It carries a curse, surely you realise that. Why even touch it?"

Makasha Mackay's ring lay on the desk before Crighton. It was cracked; the sword of Lion-Heart lay beside it.

Crighton grimaced.

"I … was a fool. Sorely tempted …"

"Tempted by what?"

Crighton did not answer.

Triphorm took a deep breath then said, "I have sent word to your home and have told your husband that you are ill and to bring her at once. I have also said that he should wait inside the Entrance Gall while she is here. She should be here any moment, in fact."

Crighton perked up at this.

"Who is coming, Tiana?"

Before Triphorm could answer the office door burst open: Sian came running in, quickly closing the door behind her, and then she ran to her mother, ignoring Triphorm altogether.

"Oh, Mother," Sian sighed, hugging her mother tightly, "I'm glad you're all right! I was so worried!"

"Oh, _magi_ ," Crighton sighed, hugging her back, "I am sorry that I worried you. But I am glad to see you."

Mother and daughter soon let go of each other, sharing a smile. Sian's smile soon faded as she caught sight of her mother's blackened hand.

"Heavens, Ma! What happened to your hand?" she exclaimed.

Crighton looked at it, then back at Sian, and said sheepishly, "Ah … I … uh … had an accident involving a cursed ring, I'm afraid to say. I was very weak when I got back here."

"And it is a miracle that you managed to return here at all, Susan!" said Triphorm, sounding furious, and catching Sian's attention at last. "That ring carried a curse of extraordinary power; to contain it is all we can hope for; I have trapped the curse in one hand for the time being - "

Crighton raised her blackened, useless hand, and examined it with the expression of one being shown an interesting curio.

"You have done very well, Tiana. How long do you think I have?"

Crighton's tone was conversational, which shocked Sian; she might have been asking for a weather forecast. Triphorm hesitated, and then said, "I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It will spread, eventually, it is the sort of curse that strengthens over time."

Crighton smiled. The news that she had less than a year to live seemed a matter of little to no concern for her. Sian, on the other hand, looked positively terrified at the thought of losing her mother.

"That long?" she asked softly, turning to her mother, looking like a lost little girl.

Crighton turned to Sian, cupped her cheek and said gently, "Listen to me, Sian. I know that a year is not a long time, but I promise you that we will spend as much time together a possible, all right?"

Sian smiled sadly and nodded. Crighton smiled at her and turned back to Triphorm, but the sad look never left Sian's face.

Hearing this, I suddenly realised that a lot that had happened last year made sense: the sad looks Sian gave Crighton and her hand, Crighton asking Sian to stay behind in her office after dismissing me from it all those time after the meetings we had, and Sian becoming more quiet and pensive as her mother's death approached. And then I felt angry with myself as guilt rushed through me, for I should have been a better friend to her, not so wrapped up in whatever Malty was doing. I know Sian did not tell anyone, but still, the signs were all there …

"I am fortunate, extremely fortunate that I have you, Tiana."

"If you had only summoned me a little earlier, I might have been able to do more, buy you more time!" said Triphorm furiously. She looked down at the broken ring and the sword. "Did you think that breaking the ring would break the curse?"

"Something like that … I was delirious, no doubt …" said Crighton. With an effort, she straightened herself in her chair. "Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward."

Triphorm looked utterly perplexed. Crighton smiled.

"I refer to the plan Lady Zira is revolving around me. Her plan to have the poor Malty girl murder me."

Triphorm sat down in the chair I had so often occupied, across the desk from Crighton. I could tell that she wanted to say more on the subject of Crighton's cursed hand, but the other held it up in polite refusal to discuss the matter further. Scowling, Triphorm said, "The Scarlet Lady does not expect Danielle to succeed. This is merely punishment for Narissa's recent failures. Slow torture for Danielle's parents, while they watch her fail and pay the price."

"In short, the girl has a death sentence pronounced upon her as surely as I have," said Crighton. "Now, I should have thought the natural successor to the job, once Danielle fails, is yourself?"

There was a short pause.

"That, I think, is the Scarlet Lady's plan."

"Lady Zira foresees a moment in the near future when she will not need a spy at Dragon Mort?"

"She believes the school will soon be in her grasp, yes."

"And if it does fall into her grasp," said Crighton, almost, it seemed, as an aside, "I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students of Dragon Mort?"

Triphorm gave a stiff nod.

"Good. Now then. Your first priority is to discover what Danielle is up to. A frightened teenage girl is a danger to others as well as to herself. Offer her help and guidance, she ought to accept, she likes you - "

" - much less since her mother has lost favour. Dani blames me, she thinks I have usurped Narissa's position."

"All the same, try. I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of whatever schemes might occur to the girl. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done if we are to save her from Lady Zira's wrath."

Triphorm raised her eyebrows and her tone was sardonic as she asked, "Are you intending to let her kill you?"

"Certainly not. _You_ must kill me."

Sian, who had remained silent until this point, gasped loudly and looked at her mother, shock written all over her face. Seeing her daughter's reaction, Crighton grasped Sian's hands and said, "Listen to me, _magi_. I know that you are scared, shocked and angry by what you have just heard, and you have every right to be, but you must not tell anyone about this. Do I have your word?"

Sian's eyebrows rose even higher at this. She hesitated, then said slowly, "If I do this, then will you tell Dad? Not about Professor Triphorm being the one to kill you," she added quickly, "but just that you are dying and that you have about a year to live? Please, Ma, do this for me? I couldn't bear to tell him, and he has every right to know, being your husband and all."

There was a long silence, broken only by an odd clicking noise. Kenna the phoenix was gnawing on a bit of cuttlebone.

At last, after several long minutes, Crighton said, "Very well. If I tell your father about how long I have got left, do you promise me not to say a word about this to anyone else?"

Sian bowed her head, nodded twice and said, "Yes, Mother."

Crighton nodded and turned her head back to Triphorm, but Sian still kept her head bowed, looking sad and trying desperately not to cry, and I felt my respect for her grow in that moment, because for Sian to know what she did and not tell a soul, not even her own siblings - I don't know what to call it, but whatever it is, she's got it.

Then Triphorm asked, her voice heavy with irony, "Would you like me to do it now? Or would you like a few moments to compose and epitaph?"

"Oh, not quite yet," said Crighton, smiling. "I daresay the moment will present itself in due course. Given what has happened tonight," she indicated her withered hand, "we can be sure that it will happen within a year."

"If you don't mind dying," said Triphorm roughly, "why not let Dani do it?"

"That girl's soul is not yet so damaged," said Crighton. "I would have it ripped apart on my account."

"And my soul, Crighton? Mine?"

"You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old woman avoid pain and humiliation," said Crighton. "I ask this one, great favour of you, Tiana, because death is coming for me as sure as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year's league. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Silverfur is involved - I hear Zira has recruited him? Or Katalina," Crighton added bitterly, "who likes to play with her food before she eats it."

Crighton's tone finished as it had started, lightly, but her green eyes pierced Triphorm as they had frequently pierced my own, as though the soul they discussed was visible to her. At last Triphorm gave another curt nod.

Crighton seemed satisfied.

"Thank you, Tiana …"

The office disappeared, and now Triphorm and Crighton were strolling together in the deserted castle grounds by twilight.

"What are you doing with Pride-Lander, all those evenings you and the Eldest Dawson Girl are closeted up together?" Triphorm asked abruptly.

Crighton looked weary.

"Why? You aren't trying to give her _more_ detentions, Tiana? The girl will soon have spent more time in detention than out."

"She is the miniature of her mother - "

"In looks, perhaps, but her deepest nature is much more like her father's. I spend time with Kiara because I have things to discuss with her, information I must give her before it is too late."

"Information," repeated Triphorm. "You trust her … you do not trust me."

"It is not a question of trust. I have, as we both know, limited time. It is essential that I give the girl enough information for her to do what she needs to do."

"And why may I not have the same information?"

"I prefer not to put all of my secrets in one basket, particularly not a basket that spends so much time dangling on the arm of Lady Zira."

"Which I do on your orders!"

"And you do it extremely well. Do not think that I understand the constant danger in which you place yourself, Tiana. To give Zita what appears to be valuable information while withholding the essentials is a job I would entrust to nobody but you."

"Yet you confide much more in a girl who is incapable of Occlumency, whose magic is mediocre and who has a direct connection into the Scarlet Lady's mind!"

"Zira fears that connection," said Crighton. "Not so long ago she had one, small taste of what truly sharing Kiara's mind means to her. It was pain such as she has never experienced. She will not try to possess Kiara again, I am sure of it. Not in that way."

"I don't understand."

"Lady Zira's soul, maimed as it is, cannot bear close contact with a soul like Kiara's. Like a tongue on frozen steel, like flesh in flame - "

"Souls? We were talking of minds!"

"In the case of Kiara and Lady Zira, to speak of one is to speak of the other."

Crighton glanced around to make sure that they were alone. They were close by the Black Forest, now, but there was no sign of anyone near them.

"After you have killed me, Tiana - "

"You refuse to tell me everything, yet you expect that small service of me!" snarled Triphorm, and real anger flared in the thin face now. "You take a great deal for granted, Crighton! Perhaps I have changed my mind!"

"You gave me your word, Tiana. And while we are talking about services you own me, I thought you agreed to keep a close eye on our young Snake-Eyes friend?"

Triphorm looked angry, mutinous. Crighton sighed.

"Come to my office tonight, Tiana, at eleven, and you shall not complain that I have no confidence in you …"

They were back in Crighton's office, along with Sian, the windows dark, and Kenna sat silent as Sian and Triphorm both sat quite still, as Crighton walked around them, talking.

"Kiara must not know, not until the last moment, not until it is necessary, otherwise how could she have the strength to do what must be done."

"But what must she do?"

"That is between Kiara, Sian and I. And do not think of asking Sian, Tiana. She will not tell you. She has my orders.

"Now, listen carefully, both of you. There will come a time - after my death - do not argue, do not interrupt! There will come a time when Lady Zira will seem to fear for the life of her snake."

"For Namzo?" Triphorm looked astonished, as did Sian.

"Precisely. If the time comes when Lady Zira stops sending that snake forth to do her bidding, but keeps it safe beside her, under magical protection, then, I think, it will be safe to tell Kiara."

"Tell her what, Mother?" Sian asked softly.

Crighton took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"Tell her that on the day Lady Zira tried to kill her, when the protection Simba placed in her the day shew as born was cast like a shield between them, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lady Zira, and a fragment of Zira's soul was blasted apart from the whole, and latched itself on the only living soul left in the dead area of land. Part of Lady Zira lives inside Kiara, and it is that which gives her the power of speech with snakes and other reptiles, and a connection with Lady Zira's mind that she has never understood. And while that fragment of soul, unmissed by Zira, remains attached to, and protected by Kiara, Lady Zira cannot die."

I seemed to be watching the three women from one end of a long tunnel, they were so far away from me, their voices echoing strangely in my ears.

"So the girl … the girl must die?" asked Triphorm, quite calmly.

"And Zira herself must do it, Tiana. That is essential."

Just then, a small sob escaped Sian. Upon hearing this, Crighton opened her eyes, looked at Sian and held her arms out wide and Sian immediately ran into her.

"I know, _magi_. I know," said Crighton soothingly, rubbing her back gently, comfortingly.

There was another long silence. Then Triphorm said, "I thought … all these years … that we were protecting her for him. For Simba."

"We have protected her because it has been essential to teach her, to raise her, to let her try her strength," said Crighton, closing her eyes once more. "Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth: sometimes I have thought she suspects it herself. If I know her, she will have arranged matters so that when she does set out to meet her death, it will, truly, mean the end of Zira."

Crighton opened her eyes. Triphorm looked horrified.

"You have kept her alive so that she can die at the right moment?"

"Don't be shocked, Tiana. How many men and women have you watched die?"

"Lately only those whom I could not save," said Triphorm. She stood up. "You have used me."

"Meaning?"

"I have spied for you, and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to keep Simba Pride-Lander's daughter safe. Now you tell me you have been raising her like a pig for slaughter - "

"But this is touching, Tiana," said Crighton seriously. "Have you grown to care for the girl, after all?"

"For _her_?" shouted Triphorm. _"Expecto Patronum!"_

From the tip of her wand burst the silver lion: he landed on the office floor, padded once across the office and soared out of the window. Crighton watched him fly away, and as his silvery glow faded she turned back to Triphorm, and her eyes were full of tears.

"After all this time?"

"Always," said Triphorm.

Sian's tear-lined face was the last thing I saw as the scene shifted …

Now, I saw Triphorm talking to the portrait of Crighton behind her desk.

"You will have to give Zira the correct date of Kiara's departure from her grandmothers'," said Crighton. "Not to do so will raise suspicion, when Zira believes you so well-informed. However, you must plant the idea of decoys - that, I think, ought to ensure Kiara's safety. Try Confunding Moan Fetch. And Tiana, if you are forced to take part in this chase, be sure to act your part convincingly … I am counting upon you to remain in Lady Zira's good books as long as possible, or Dragon Mort will be left to the mercy of the Csintalans …"

Now TRiphorm was head to head with Moan in an unfamiliar tavern, Mona's face looking curiously blank, Triphorm frowning in concentration.

"You will suggest to the Order of the Centaur," Triphorm murmured, "that they use decoys. Polyjuice Potion. Identical Pride-Landers. It is the only thing that might work. You will forget that I suggested this. You will present it as your own idea. You understand?"

"I understand," murumured Mona, her eyes unfocused …

Now I was flying alongside Triphorm on a broomstick through a clear dark night: she was accompanied by other Love Destroyers, and ahead were Meers and a Kiara who was really Geri … a Love Destroyer moved ahead of Triphorm and raised her wand, pointing it directly at Meers' back -

 _"Sectumsempra!"_ shouted Triphorm.

But the spell, intended for the Love Destroyer's wand hand, missed and hit Geri instead -

And next, Triphorm was kneeling in Pumbaa's old bedroom. Tears were dripping from the end of her hooked nose as she read the old letter from my father. The second page carried only a few words:

 _could ever have been friends with Felitica Femwazz. I hate to say this, but I think his mind's going, personally!_

 _Lots of man love,_

 _Simba_

Triphorm took the page bearing my father's signature, and his love, and tucked it inside her robes. Then she ripped in two the photograph she was also holding, so that she kept the part from which my father laughed, throwing the portion showing my mother and I back on to the floor, under the chest of drawers …

And now Triphorm stood again in the Headmistress' study as Philomena Naenia came hurrying into her portrait.

"Headmistress! They are camping in the Forest of Dean! The Sackbrain - "

"Do not use that word!"

" - the Eldest Dawson Girl, then, mentioned the place as she opened her bag and I heard her!"

"Good. Very good!" cried the portrait of Crighton behind the Headmistress' chair. "Now, Tiana, the sword! Do not forget that it must be taken under conditions of need and valour - and she must not know that you give it! If Zira should read Kiara's mind and see you acting for her - "

"I know," said Triphorm curtly. She approached the portrait of Crighton and pulled at its side. It swung forwards, revealing a hidden cavity behind it, from which she took the sword of Lion-Heart.

"And you still aren't going to tell me why it's so important to give Pride-Lander the sword?" said Triphorm, as she swung a travelling cloak over her robes.

"No, I don't think so," said Crighton's portrait. "She will know what to do with it. And Tiana, be very careful, they may not take kindly to your appearance after Geri Fang's mishap - "

Triphorm turned at the door.

"Don't worry, Crighton," she said coolly. "I have a plan …"

And Triphorm left the room. I rose up out of the Pensieve, and moments later I lay on the carpeted floor in exactly the same room: Triphorm might just have closed the door.

 **AN 2: So, I know a lot of you are upset that Sarabi died, and to be honest, I hated killing her off, but I had to. The reason for her death is because I felt that Kiara needed a little extra nudge to go and kill Zira, and that her parents were not enough as she did not know them for that long. I loved Sarabi, as I am sure many of you do, too, and I have to say that if she had lived that I had it in mind that she and Mr Dawson would end up together at some point. Once again, I am so sorry about this death and I hope that you can forgive me for it.**


	13. Chapter 13

**AN: So, I just want to clear something up that I should have said last chapter. Beth, Kestrel, Merida, Joe, Jack, Max, Ben and Dave are all still alive. The reason for this is because after what happened with Crighton, I feel that it would have destroyed Sian if one of her siblings had died. I know that Tanya was a cousin to her, but I don't think that she and Sian were that close, and although it hurt Sian deeply to lose her, it didn't hurt her as much as it had when Crighton died. I hope that makes sense. Anyway, enjoy this chapter.**

 **Chapter 13**

 **The Forest Again**

 **KIARA**

Finally, the truth. Lying with my face pressed into the dusty carpet of the office where I had once thought I was learning the secrets of victory, I understood at last that I was not supposed to survive. My job was to walk calmly into Death's welcoming arms. Along the way, I was to dispose of Zira's remaining links to life, so that when at last I flung myself, the end would be clean, and the job that ought to have been done in the Pride-Lands would be finished: neither would live, neither would survive.

I felt my heart pounding in my chest. How strange that in my dread of death, it pumped all the harder, valiantly keeping me alive. But it would have to stop, and soon. Its beats were numbered. How many would there be time for, as I rose and walked through the castle for the last time, out into the grounds and into the Forest?

Terror washed over me as I lay on the floor, with that funeral drum pounding inside me. Would it hurt to die? All those times I had thought that it was about to happen and escaped, I had never really thought of the thing itself: my will to live had always been so much stronger than my fear of death. Yet it did not occur to me now to try to escape, to outrun Zira. It was over, I knew it, and all that was left was the thing itself: dying.

If I could have only died that summer's night when I had left my grandmothers' cottage for the last time, when the noble phoenix feather wand had saved me! If I could only have died like Harold, so quickly I would not have known what had happened! Or if I could have flung myself in front of a wand to save someone I loved … I envied even my own parents' deaths now. This cold-blooded walk to my destruction would require a different kind of bravery. I felt my fingers trembling slightly and made an effort to control them, although not one could see me; the portraits on the walls were all empty.

Slowly, very slowly, I sat up, and as I did so I felt more alive, and more aware of my own living body than ever before. Why had I never appreciated what a miracle I was, brain and nerve and bounding heart? It would all be gone … or at least, I would be gone from it. My breath came slow and deep, and my mouth and throat were completely dry, but so were my eyes.

Crighton's betrayal was almost nothing. Of course there had been a bigger plan; I had simply been too foolish to see it, I realised that now. I had never questioned my own assumption that Crighton wanted me alive. Now I saw that my lifespan had always been determined by how long it took to eliminate all the Horcruxes. Crighton had passed the job of destroying them to me, and obediently I had continued to chip away at the bonds tying not only Zira, but myself, to life! How neat, how elegant, not to waste any more lives, but to give the dangerous task to the girl who had already been marked for slaughter, and whose death would not be a calamity, but another blow against Zira.

And Crighton had known that I would not duck out, that I would keep going to the end, even though it was _my_ end, because she had taken trouble to get to know me, hadn't she? Crighton knew, as Zira knew, that I would not let anyone else die for me now that I had discovered it was in my power to stop it. The images of my parents lying dead in the Forest, along with those of Tanya, Grandmother Sarabi, Meers, Todd, Keziah and Ron lying dead in the Great Hall forced their way back into my mind's eye, and for a moment I could hardly breathe: Death was impatient …

But Crighton had overestimated me. I had failed: the snake survived. One Horcrux remained to bind Zira to the earth even after I had been killed. True, that would mean an easier job for somebody. I wondered who would do it … Chris, Sian and Chrissie would know what needed to be done, of course … that would have been why Crighton wanted me to confide in three others … so that if I fulfilled my true destiny a little early, they could carry on …

Like rain on a cold window, these thoughts pattered against the hard surface of the incontrovertible truth, which was that I must die. _I must die._ It must end.

Chris, Sian and Chrissie seemed a long way away, in a far-off country; I felt as though I had parted from them long ago. There would be no goodbyes and no explanations, I was determined of that. This was a journey we could not make together, and the attempts they would make to stop me would waste valuable time. I looked down at the silver watch I had received on my seventeenth birthday. Nearly half of the hour allotted by Zira for my surrender had elapsed.

As I stood up, my heart beating in my chest like a frantic bird, the office door opened, and looking round I saw that it was Sian. I hesitated, watching her as she looked around the office sadly: first at the wall where the pictures she and her siblings had sent their mother, then at her mother's empty portrait, and at last, Sian's eyes landed on me.

We stared at each other for a long time, neither of us saying a word. Eventually though, Sian raised her hands and said, "If you want to yell at me, go ahead. I deserve it."

At that moment, any anger I may have felt for Sian evaporated completely; and seeing Sian like that, looking so sad and sorry at me, I realised that I couldn't be angry with her even if I wanted to. So instead I ran to her and hugged her.

I felt Sian hesitate for a few moments before she hugged me back. When we let go of each other, she said, "I'm sorry I never told you that you had to die, Kiara. It's just … I didn't know - "

"I know," I said, smiling at her gently. "I get it. If you had to die, and yet you didn't know and I had to tell you … I wouldn't know how to."

Sian smiled at me and nodded. Then her expression turned grim and she said, "There were times when I wanted to tell you during these past few hours, but how do you tell your best friend in the world, who you can't imagine not being in your life, that they will have to die soon?"

"You can't. There's no easy way to tell someone that they are going to die." There was a pause. Then I said, "In Triphorm's memory, you told her and your mother, back in our very first year here, that you thought of me as nothing special …"

Sian gave a hollow chuckle. "It's true that I once thought of you that way. But now I see you as a very dear friend of mine, who has helped me lighten up over the years, just as I've helped you to be a little wiser."

I could not help but to laugh at that. Then I said seriously, "You know, you'll still have Chris and Chrissie for company after I'm … you know …"

"Yeah, but it won't be the same without you." Sian then looked sadly at me again and said, "I'm really going to miss you, Kiara."

"I'm really going to miss you too, Sian," I told her. "Hey, you won't - ?"

"Don't worry, I'll let Zira tell Chris, Chrissie and everyone else here about your death."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

Sian nodded, and was about to turn away, when she stopped and said, "Oh, before I forget, I need to give you something …" She then moved over to the cupboard where the Pensieve was put, knelt in front of it, did something and pulled out a blue velvet box. She then shut the cabinet and then turned to face me. "Not even Triphorm knew about this."

"What is that?" I asked her.

"Something important that you should have now. I know I promised my mother years ago that I wouldn't give this to you until Zira was destroyed, but given the circumstances I think it best that you should have this now."

Sian put the box on the desk, then looked back at me and said, "Be sure to read the note on top first. It's just as important as what's inside it."

I nodded, just noticing the envelope on top of the box. Then Sian and I hugged, and no words were said between us, for we both knew what this moment meant. When we let go, Sian and I gave each other a small grim smile, then I watched her walk to the office door and leave without looking back, which I'm glad of, because I don't think neither of us would have left the other if she had.

Once the door had closed, I turned back to the box and picked up the envelope, on which I saw my name written in familiar thin, slanting writing. Thinking bitterly about what secrets Crighton had kept from me now, I opened it, pulled out the letter inside and read.

 _Dear Kiara,_

 _If Sian has given you this letter after you have found out that you share a part of Zira's soul, then she has done the right thing. Do not blame her too harshly, Kiara, for she never wanted to tell you in the first place._

 _Now, the reason I am writing this letter, Kiara, does indeed have everything to do with the box it is attached to. But before you go ahead and open it, there are things you should know first._

 _As I am sure you must have heard by now, people have said that there are no royal wizarding families. But this is wrong. There is only one royal wizarding family, Kiara: your family._

 _The reason no one told you about this, Kiara, is because on the day you were almost killed by Zira, I met up with your parents and got them to sign a contract, saying that they couldn't tell you about your true heritage until you were ready to know - and yes, I got your grandmothers and anyone else who knew not to tell you, for only very few people knew that your family is a royal one._

 _I did this because I wanted you to have as normal a childhood as possible, Kiara. After all, you were already given attention for stopping Zira in the first place, and I did not think you could handle it if you were given even more attention if everyone knew that your family is a royal one._

 _Now, I think it best if you do not tell anyone about this, because I do not think it wise to inform people that you have royal blood just before you are about to die. The choice is up to you, of course, but I think it best to keep this to yourself._

 _See you on the other side, Kiara._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _Susan Crighton_

Once finished, I stared at the letter, confounded. I couldn't be royalty, I just couldn't be! But then I remembered Pride-Castle, and the statue of my parents holding me … I remembered the fancy robes they wore, not to mention the crowns sitting on top of their heads … and I remembered not understanding why they wore crowns … for the only people who wear crowns, really, are -

I then gasped loudly at the realisation that it was true, that I am the Princess of the Pride-Lands! I then looked back at the letter, and reading it through a second time I agreed with Crighton about her asking others not to tell me that I am of royal blood when I was younger, for it would have been too much pressure. I also agreed with Crighton's suggestion for me to not tell anyone about this before I died, for it would not be a good time to do so, as I did not want all those who had stood by me to judge, speculate and conspire about my family and I after my death.

I then placed the letter on the desk and opened the box. Pushing aside the protective packaging inside I saw a silver tiara that was decorate with white diamonds, rubies, sapphires and emeralds on the banding and the delicate spirals surrounding the symbol of the Pride Lands in the centre: a circle split in half, with a sun on one side and a moon on the other.

It was beautiful, and it was clearly made for me, and before I left the office, I had to put it on. I could not resist. So I did, and it fit my perfectly.

And then, something rather strange and amazing happened.

The moment the crown touched my head, shadows swarmed the room, coming from every direction, almost appearing out of nowhere: I could feel my hair whooshing around me as they sped past me, and I ducked down, covering my face with my hands, having no idea what was going on, but I was freaked out by it just the same. I didn't know what to do or think; after all, how can you hurt a ghost? But soon enough, the shadows stopped coming.

I remained where I was, cowering on the floor of the office. I did not know how long I remained there, but it was only when a deep, powerful voice spoke up that I knew I was in no danger.

"Rise up, Kiara. Don't be afraid."

I lowered my hands, opened my eyes, stood up rather shakily and looked around and I gasped at what I saw: the shadows that had come in were ghosts who were floating around the walls, and looking around I saw that they all were similar to me in some shape or form: some had my eye shape, my hands, my nose, my hair; I saw a man who had the same coloured eyes as my own, and a woman who had my coloured hair. And I understood, in that moment, that these ghosts were my ancestors.

"Kiara," said the deep, powerful voice coming from directly in front of me, and I knew, at once that I was Grandfather Mufasa who had spoken. Looking right at him, I smiled, and he smiled right back at me as he said, "The Star of the Pride Lands shines down upon you tonight. We are all proud of you, my daughter, and now you need to show your bravery one last time. So go forth now, and do what must be done to save all those you love, and be proud, as we all are, to be the Princess of the Pride Lands!"

There were cheers from the other ghosts at this, which echoed around the office, even after they had all vanished. Once they were gone, I lifted the crown from off my head and placed it back in the box, for as much as I wanted to take it with me, I knew that I had to leave it behind. It was time to leave the safety of this office, and the castle, and face what awaited me on the other side of Zira's Killing Curse in the Forest. I stood there, listening to my heart, which, despite what had happened in the past few minutes, was still leaping against my ribs like a frantic bird. Perhaps it knew it had little time left, perhaps it was determined to fulfil a lifetime's beats before the end. So I closed the crown's case and I did not look back as I closed the office door.

The castle was empty. I felt ghostly striding through it alone, as if I had already died. The portrait people were still missing from their frames; the whole place was eerily still, as if all its remaining lifeblood were concentrated in the Great Hall, where the dead and the mourners were crammed.

I pulled the Invisibility Cloak over myself and descended through the floors, at last walking down the marble staircase into the Entrance Hall. Perhaps some tiny part of me hoped to be sensed, to be seen, to be stopped, but the Cloak was, as ever, impenetrable, perfect, and I reached the front doors easily.

Then Nikita nearly walked into me. She was one half of a pair that was carrying a body in from the grounds. I glanced down, and felt another dull blow to my stomach: Colleen McCreevy, though under-age, must have sneaked back just as Malty, Crate and Gabber had done. She was tiny in death.

"You know what? I can manage her alone, Nikita," said Olivia Cane, and she bent down, scooped Colleen into her arms and carried her into the Great Hall.

Nikita leaned against the doorframe for a moment and wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. She looked like an old woman. Then she set off down the steps again into the darkness to recover more bodies.

I took one glance back at the entrance of the Great Hall. People were moving around, trying to comfort each other, drinking, kneeling beside the dead, but I could not see any of the people I loved, no hint of Chris, Sian, Chrissie or any of the other Dawsons, no Lincoln. I felt I would have given all the time remaining to me for just one last look at them, but then, would I ever have had the strength to stop looking? It was better like this.

I moved down the steps and out into the darkness. It was nearly four in the morning and the deathly stillness of the grounds felt as though they were holding their breath, waiting to see whether I could do what I must.

I moved towards Nikita, who was bending over another body.

"Nikita."

"Blimey, Kiara, you nearly gave me heart failure!"

I had pulled off the Cloak: the idea had come to me out of nowhere, born out of a desire to make absolutely sure.

"Where are you going, alone?" Nikita asked suspiciously.

"It's all part of the plan," I said. "There's something I've got to do. Listen - Nikita - "

"Kiara!" Nikita looked suddenly scared. "Kiara, you're not thinking of handing yourself over?"

"No," I lied easily. "'Course not … this is something else. But I might be out of sight for a while. You know Zira's snake, Nikita? She's got a huge snake … calls it Namzo …"

"I've heard it, yeah … what about it?"

"It's got to be killed. Chris, Sian and Chrissie know that, but just in case they - "

The awfulness of that possibility smothered me for a moment, made it impossible for me to keep talking. But I pulled myself together again: this was crucial, I must be like Crighton, keep a cool head, make sure there were back-ups, others to carry on. Crighton had died knowing that four people knew about the Horcruxes; now Nikita would take my place: there would still be four in the secret.

"Just in case they're - busy - and you get the chance - "

"Kill the snake?"

"Kill the snake," I repeated.

"All right, Kiara. You're OK, are you?"

"I'm fine. Thanks, Nikita."

But Nikita seized my wrist as I made to move on.

"We're all going to keep fighting, Kiara. You know that?"

"Yeah, I - "

The suffocating feeling extinguished the end of my sentence, I could not go on. Nikita did not seem to find it strange. She hugged me quickly, released me, and walked away to look for more bodies.

I swung the Cloak back over myself and walked on. Someone else was moving not far away, stooping over another prone figure on the ground. I was feet away from him when I realised it was Chris.

I stopped in my tracks. He was crouching over a boy who was whispering for his home.

"It's OK, mate," Chris was saying. "It's all right. Come on. Let's get you inside."

"But I want to go _home_ ," whispered the boy. "I don't want to fight any more!"

"I know," said Chris, and his voice broke. "It's going to be all right."

Ripples of cold undulated over my skin. I wanted to shout out to the night, I wanted Chris to know that I was there, I wanted him to know where I was going. o wanted to be stopped, to be dragged back, to be sent back home …

And yet, I _was_ home. Dragon Mort was the second-best home I had known. Zira and Triphorm and I, the abandoned girls, had all found home here (well, them more than me, but still) …

Chris was kneeling beside the injured boy now, clasping his shoulder. With a huge effort, I forced myself on. I thought I saw Chris look round as I passed and wondered whether he had sensed someone walking nearby, but I did not speak, and I did not look back.

Mina's hut loomed out of the darkness. There were no lights, no sound of Gnashed scrabbling at the door, her bark booming in welcome. All those visits to Mina, and the gleam of the copper kettle on the fire, and rock cakes and giant grubs, and her great, smooth face, and Chrissie vomiting slugs, and Chris and Sian helping me save Norberta …

I moved on, and now I reached the edge of the Forest, and I stopped.

A swarm of Stingers was gliding amongst the trees; I could feel their chill, and I was not sure I would be able to pass safely through it. I had no strength left for a Patronus. I could no longer control my own trembling. It was not, after all, so easy to die. Every second I breathed, the smell of the grass, the cool air on my face, was so precious: to think that people had years and years, time to waste, so much time that it dragged, and I was clinging to each second. At the same time I thought that I would not be able to go on, and I knew that I must. The long game was ended, the Snitch had been caught, it was time to leave the air …

The Snitch. My nerveless fingers fumbled for a moment with the pouch at my neck and I pulled it out.

 _I open at the close._

Breathing fast and hard, I stared down at it. Now that I wanted time to move as slowly as possible, it seemed to have sped up, and understanding was coming so fast it seemed to have bypassed thought. This was the close. This was the moment.

I pressed the golden metal to my lips and whispered, "I am about to die."

The metal shell broken open. I lowered my shaking hand, raised Dani's wand beneath the Cloak and murmured, _"Lumos."_

The red stone with its jagged crack running down the centre sat in the two halves of the Snitch. The Resurrection Stone had cracked down the long straight vertical line representing the Stick of Fear. The knobbly and the squiggly lines representing the Cloak and the Stone were still discernible.

And again, I understood, without having to think. It did not matter about bringing them back, for I was about to join them. I was not really fetching them: they were fetching me.

I closed my eyes, and turned the Stone over in my hand, three times.

I knew it had happened, because I heard slight movements around me that suggested frail bodies shifting their footing on the earthy, twig-strewn ground that marked the outer edge of the Forest. I opened my eyes and looked around.

They were neither ghost nor truly flesh, I could see that. They resembled most closely the Maliay that had escaped from the diary, so long ago, and she had been memory made nearly solid. Less substantial than living bodies, but much more than ghosts, they moved towards me, and on each face there was the same loving smile.

My parents were both the same: the same hair, same clothes, same age they had been when they had died not so long ago.

Pumbaa was tall and fat yet handsome, and younger by far than I had seen him in life. He loped with an easy grace, his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face.

Meers was younger too, and much less shabby, and his hair was thicker and darker. He looked happy to be back in this familiar place, scene of so many adolescent wonderings.

Grandfather Mufasa was tall, powerful and had a regal air about him. His royal robes suited his strong, lithe body, and his long, dark tawny hair was hanging neatly over his shoulders and his dark tawny beard was short. His dark amber eyes, the same colour as mine, were fixed on me, and I could see a smile under the bushy facial hair.

Grandmother Sarabi was exactly the same as she had looked when she had died, apart from the fact that she had no blood pouring out of her, and hers and my father's smiles were the widest of all. They both drew close to me, and their eyes searched my face hungrily as though they would never be able to look at me enough.

"You've been so brave, sweetie," said Grandmother Sarabi.

"Yes, you have," my father said proudly.

I could not speak. My eyes feasted on them both, and I thought that I would like to stand there and look at them forever, and that would be enough.

"You are nearly there," said Mum. "Very close. We are … so proud of you."

"Does it hurt?"

The childish question had fallen from my lips before I could stop it.

"Dying? Nah," said Pumbaa. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep, kid."

"And she will want it to be quick. She wants it over."

I nodded. Then I said, "You all know that I'm the Princess of the Pride Lands now, don't you?"

They all nodded, and Grandfather Mufasa said, "Yes, Kiara, we do. And might I just say, you are doing the right thing, facing your problems rather than running from them. Something my son was not as quick to learn," he added sternly, glaring at my father.

"Yes, thank you, Father," my father said, looking abashed.

"Well, let's be thankful that Rafiki bopped him on the head to knock some sense into him, shall we?" Mum added cheekily.

 _"Nala!"_ Daddy hissed, but the others just laughed at my father's embarrassed expression.

I, though, was entirely confused, because I had no idea what they were going on about, which made me ask, "What do you all mean? What did you do, Daddy?"

At that, my parents, grandparents, Meers and Pumbaa seemed to remember I was there, and Grandmother Sarabi quickly answered, "Now is not the time for you to know, sweetie. She's waiting, after all."

I nodded again, then said, "I didn't want any of you to die. And of you. I'm sorry - "

I addressed Meers more than any of them, beseeching him.

" - right after you'd had your son … Timon, I'm sorry - "

"I am sorry, too," said Meers. "Sorry I will never know him … but he will know what I did and I hope he will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life."

"And that's what your father and I want you to tell Kion, Kiara, once he's old enough to understand," said Mum. "You will do that for us, won't you?"

"Of course I will, Mum," I answered at once.

My parents both beamed at me.

A chilly breeze that seemed to emanate from the heart of the Forest lifted the hair at my brow. I knew that they would not tell me to go, that it would have to be my decision.

"You'll stay with me?"

"Until the very end," said Grandfather Mufasa.

"They won't be able to see you?" I asked.

"We are part of you," said Pumbaa. "Invisible to anyone else."

I looked at my father and Grandmother Sarabi.

"Stay close to me," I said quietly.

And I set off. The Stingers' chill did not overcome me; I passed through it with my companions, and they acted like Patronuses to me, and together we matched through the old trees that grew closely together, their branches tangled, their roots gnarled and twisted underfoot. I clutched the Cloak tightly around me in the darkness, travelling deeper and deeper into the Forest, with no idea where exactly Zira was, but sure that I would find her. Beside me, making scarcely a sound, walked my parents, my grandparents, Meers and Pumbaa, and their presence was my courage, and the reason I was able to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

My body and mind felt oddly disconnected now, my limbs working without conscious instruction, as if I were passenger, not driver, in the body I was about to leave. The dead who walked beside me through the Forest were much more real to me now than the living back at the castle: Chris, Sian, Chrissie and all the others were the ones who felt like ghosts as I stumbled and slipped towards the end of my life, towards Zira …

A thud and a whisper: some other living creature had stirred close by. I stopped under the Cloak, peering around, listening, and my parents, my grandparents, Meers and Pumbaa stopped too.

"Someone's there," came a rough whisper close at hand. "She's got an Invisibility Cloak. Could it be - ?"

Two figures emerged from behind a nearby tree: their wands flared, and I saw Yap and Dali peering into the darkness, directly at the place where I, my parents, my grandparents, Meers and Pumbaa were standing. Apparently they could not see anything.

"Definitely heard something," said Yap. "Animal, d'you reckon?"

"That headcase Mina kept a whole bunch of stuff in here," said Dali, glancing over her shoulder.

Yap looked down at her watch.

"Time's nearly up. Pride-Lander's had her hour. She's not coming."

"And she was sure she'd come! She won't be happy."

"Better go back," said Yap. "Find out what the plan is now."

She and Dali turned and walked deeper into the Forest. I followed them, knowing that they would lead me exactly where I wanted them to go. I glanced sideways, and my father smiled at me, my mother nodded her encouragement, and Grandmother Sarabi said, "You can do this, sweetie."

We had travelled on mere minutes when I saw light ahead, and Yap and Dali stepped out into a clearing that I had seen through Zira's eyes, the place where the monstrous Aratota had once lived. The remnants of her vast web were there still, but the swarm of descendants she had spawned had been driven out by the Love Destroyers, to fight for their cause.

A fire burned in the middle of the clearing, and its flickering light fell over a crowd of completely silent, watchful Love Destroyers. Some of them were still masked and hooded, others showed their faces. Two giants sat on the outskirts of the group, casting massive shadows over the scene, their faces cruel, rough-hewn like rock. I saw Rasputin, skulking, chewing his long nails; the great, blonde Tempest was dabbing at her bleeding lip. I saw Narissa Malty, who looked defeated and terrified, and Latchna, whose eyes were sunken and full of apprehension.

Every eye was fixed upon Zira, who stood with her head bowed, and her white hands folded over the Stick of Fear in front of her. She might have been praying, or else counting silently in her mind, and I, standing still on the edge of the scene, thought absurdly of a child counting in a game of hide-and-seek. Behind her head, still swirling and coiling, the great snake Namzo floated in his glittering, charmed cage, like a monstrous halo.

When Dali and Yap rejoined the circle, Zira looked up.

"No sign of her, my Lady," said Dali.

Zira's expression did not change. The red eyes seemed to burn in the firelight. Slowly, she drew the Stick of Fear between her long fingers.

"My Lady - "

Katalina had spoken: she sat closest to Zira, dishevelled, her face a little bloody but otherwise unharmed.

Zira raised her hand to silence her, and she did not speak another word, but eyed her in worshipful fascination.

"I thought she would come," said Zira in her high, clear voice, her eyes on the leaping flames. "I expected her to come."

Nobody spoke. They seemed as scared as I felt, for my heart was now throwing itself against my ribs as though determined to escape the body I was about to cast aside. My hands were sweating as I pulled off the Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it beneath my robes, with my wand. I did not want to be tempted to fight.

"I was, it seems … mistaken," said Zira.

"You weren't."

I said it as loudly as I could, with all the force I could muster: I did not want to sound afraid. The Resurrection Stone slipped from between my numb fingers and out of the corners of my eyes I saw my parents, my grandparents, Meers and Pumbaa vanish as I stepped forwards into the firelight. At that moment I felt that nobody mattered but Zira. It was just the two of us.

The illusion was gone as soon as it had come. The giants roared as the Love Destroyers rose together, and there were many cries, gasps, even laughter. Zira had frozen where she stood, but her red eyes had found mine, and she stared as I moved towards her, with nothing but the fire between us.

Then a voice yelled -

"KIARA! NO!"

I turned: Mina was bound and trussed, tied to a tree nearby. Her massive body shook the branches overhead as she struggled, desperate.

"NO! NO! KIARA, WHAT'RE YEH - ?"

"QUIET!" shouted Tempest, and with a flick of her wand, Mina was silenced.

Katalina, who had leapt to her feet, was looking eagerly from Zira to myself, her breast heaving. The only things that moved were the flames and the snake, coiling and uncoiling in the glittering cage behind Zira's head.

I could feel my wand against my chest, but I made no attempt to draw it. I knew that the snake was too well protected, knew that if I managed to point the wand at Namzo, fifty curses would hit me first. And still, Zira and I looked at each other, and now Zira tilted her head a little to the side, considering the girl standing before her, and a singularly mirthless smile curled the lipless mouth.

"Kiara Pride-Lander," she said, very softly. Her voice might have been part of the spitting fire. "The girl who lived."

None of the Love Destroyers moved. They were waiting: everything was waiting. Mina was struggling, and Katalina was panting, and I thought longingly of Chris, Sian and Chrissie, standing before me, smiling at me -

Zira had raised her wand. Her head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wondering what would happen if she proceeded. I quickly looked down and saw that I was standing in between my parents' bodies: Zira must have separated them for this moment. How fitting, I thought, to die on the exact spot my parents did. I looked back into the red eyes, and I wanted it to happen now, quickly, while I could still stand, before I lost control, before I betrayed my fear -

I saw the mouth move and a flash of green light, and everything was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

 **The Sub House**

 **KIARA**

I lay face down, listening to the silence. I was perfectly alone. Nobody was watching. Nobody else was there. I was not perfectly sure that I was there myself.

A long time later, or maybe no time at all, it came to me that I must exist, must be more than disembodied thought, because I was lying, definitely lying, on some surface. Therefore, I had a sense of touch, and the thing against which I lay existed too.

Almost as soon as I reached this conclusion, I became conscious that I was naked. Convinced as I was of my total solitude, this did not concern me, but it did intrigue me slightly. I wondered whether, as I could feel, I would be able to see. In opening them, I discovered that I had eyes.

I lay in a bright mist, though it was not like mist I had ever experienced before. My surroundings were not hidden by cloudy vapour; rather the cloudy vapour had not yet formed into surroundings. The floor on which I lay seemed to be white, neither warm nor cold, but simply there, a flat, blank something on which to be.

I sat up. My body appeared to be unscathed. I touched my face. I had no scar.

Then a noise reached me through the unformed nothingness that surrounded me: the small, soft thumpings of something that flapped, flailed and struggled. It was a pitiful noise, yet also slightly indecent. I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was eavesdropping on something furtive, shameful.

For the first time, I wished that I was clothed.

Barely had the wish formed in my head, than robes appeared a short distance away. I took them and pulled them on: they were soft, clean and warm. It was extraordinary how they had appeared, just like that, the moment I had wanted them …

I stood up, looking around. Was I in some great Room of Needs? The longer I looked, the more there was to see. A great, domed glass roof glittered high above me in sunlight. Perhaps it was a palace. All was hushed and still, except for those odd thumping and whimpering noises coming from somewhere close by in the mist …

I turned slowly on the spot, and my surrounding seemed to invent themselves before my eyes. A wide open space, bright and clean, a hall larger by far than the Great Hall, with that clear, domed glass ceiling. It was quite empty. I was the only person there, except for -

I recoiled. I had spotted the thing that was making the noises. It had the form of a small, naked child, curled on the ground, its skin raw and rough, flayed-looking, and it lay shuddering under a seat where it had been left, unwanted, stuffed out of sight, struggling for breath.

I was afraid of it. Small and fragile and wounded though it was, I did not want to approach it. Nevertheless, I drew slowly nearer, ready to jump back at any moment. Soon I stood near enough to touch it, yet I could not bring myself to do it. I felt like a coward. I ought to comfort it, but how could I comfort something that repulsed me so?

"You cannot help."

I spun round. Susan Crighton was walking towards me, sprightly and upright, wearing sweeping robes of midnight blue.

"Kiara." She spread her arms wide, and her hands were both whole and white and undamaged. "You wonderful girl. You brave, brave woman. Let us walk."

Stunned, I followed as Crighton strode away from where the flayed child lay whimpering, leading me to two seats that I had not previously noticed, set some distance away under that high, sparkling ceiling. Crighton sat down in one of them, and I fell into the other, staring at my old headmistress' face. Crighton's long, caramel-silver hair, the piercing green eyes, the crooked nose: everything was as I remembered it. And yet …

"But you're dead," I said.

"Oh, yes," said Crighton, matter-of-factly.

"Then … I'm dead too?"

"Ah," said Crighton, smiling still more broadly. "That is the question, isn't it? On the whole, dear girl, I think not."

"Not?" I repeated.

"Not," said Crighton.

"But …" I raised my hand instinctively towards the flame scar. It still wasn't there. "But I should have died … I didn't defend myself! I meant to let her kill me!"

"And that," said Crighton, "will, I think, have made all the difference."

Happiness seemed to radiate from Crighton, like fire: I had never seen the woman so utterly, so palpably content.

"Explain," I said.

"But you already know," said Crighton. She twiddled her thumbs together.

"I let her kill me," I said. "Didn't I?"

"You did," said Crighton, nodding. "Go on!"

"So the part of her soul that was in me …"

Crighton nodded still more enthusiastically, urging me onwards, a broad smile of encouragement on her face.

"... has it gone?"

"Oh, yes!" said Crighton. "Yes, she destroyed it. You soul is whole, and completely your own, Kiara."

"But then …"

I glanced over my shoulder, to where the small, maimed creature trembled under the chair.

"What is that, Professor?"

"Something that is beyond either of our help," said Crighton.

"But if Zira used the Killing Curse," I started again, "and no one put a love protection in me this time - how can I be alive?"

"I think you know," said Crighton. "Thin back. Remember what she did, in her ignorance, in her greed and her cruelty."

I thought. I let my gaze drift over my surroundings. If it was indeed a palace in which we sat, it was an odd one, with chairs set in little rows and a ramp of sorts leading up to a plank, and directly above that were tracks of some kind with claws at the end, and still, Crighton and I and the stunted creature under the chair were the only beings there. Then the answer rose to my lips easily, without effort.

"She took my blood," I said.

"Precisely!" said Crighton. "She took your blood and rebuilt her living body with it. Your blood in her veins, Kiara, Simba's protection inside both of you! She tethered you to life while she lives!"

"I live … while she lives? But I thought … I thought it was the other way round! I thought we both had to die? Or is it the same thing?"

I was distracted by the whimpering and thumping of the agonised creature behind us and I glanced back at it yet again.

"Are you sure we can't do anything?"

"There is no help possible."

"Then explain … more," I said, and Crighton smiled.

"You were the seventh Horcrux, Kiara, the Horcrux she never meant to make. She had rendered her soul so unstable that it broke apart when she committed that act of unspeakable evil, the attempted killing of a child. But what escaped from that deadened area of land was even less than she knew. She left more than her body behind. She left part of herself latched to you, the would-be victim who had survived.

"And her knowledge remained woefully incomplete, Kiara! That which Zira does not value, she takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children's tales, of love, loyalty and innocence, Zira knows and understands nothing. _Nothing_. That they all have a power beyond her own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth she has never grasped.

"She took your blood believing it would strengthen her. She took into her body a tiny part of the enchantment your father laid upon you when you were born. Her body keeps his sacrifice alive, and while that enchantment survives, so do you and so does Zira's one last hope for herself."

Crighton smiled at me, and I stared at her.

"And you knew this? You knew all along?"

"I guessed. But my guesses have, usually, been good," said Crighton happily, and we sat in silence for what seemed like a long time, while the creature behind us continued to whimper and tremble.

"There's more," I said. "There's more to it. Why did my wand break the wand she borrowed?"

"As to that, I cannot be sure."

"Have a guess, then," I said, and Crighton laughed.

"What you must understand, Kiara, is that you and :Lady Zira have journeyed into the realms of magic hitherto unknown and untested. But here is what I think happened, and it is unprecedented, and no wandmaker could, I think, ever have predicted or explained it to Zira.

"Without meaning to, as you now know, Lady Zira doubled the bond between you when she returned to a human form. A part of her soul was still attached to yours, and, thinking to strengthen herself, she took a part of your father's protection into herself. If she could only have understood the precise and terrible power of that protection, she would not, perhaps, have dared to touch your blood … but then, if she had been able to understand, she could not be Lady Zira, and might never have murdered at all.

"Having ensured this two-fold connection, having wrapped your destinies together more securely than ever two witches were joined in history, Zira proceeded to attack you with a wand that shared a core with yours. The cores reacted in a way that Lady Zira, who never knew that your wand was twin of hers, had never expected.

"She was more afraid than you were that night, Kiara. You had accepted, even embraced, the possibility of death, something that Lady Zira had never been able to do. Your courage won, your wand overpowered hers. And in doing so, something happened between those wands, something that echoed the relationship between their mistresses.

"I believe that your wand imbibed some of the power and qualities of Zira's wand that night, which is to say that it contained a little of Zira herself. So your wand recognised her when she pursued you, recognised a woman who was both kin and mortal enemy, and it regurgitated some of her own magic against her, magic much more powerful than anything Narissa's wand had ever performed. Your wand now contained the power of enormous courage and of Zira's own deadly skill: what chance did that poor stick of Narissa Malty's stand?"

"But if my wand was so powerful how come Sian was able to break it?" I asked.

"My dear girl, its remarkable effects were directed only at Zira, who had tampered so ill-advisedly with the deepest laws of magic. Only towards her was that wand abnormally powerful. Otherwise it was a wand like any other … though a good one, I am sure," Crighton finished kindly.

I sat in thought for a long time, or perhaps seconds. It was very hard to be sure of things like time, here.

"She killed me with your wand."

"She _failed_ to kill you with my wand," Crighton corrected me. "I think that we can agree that you are not dead - though, of course," she added, as if fearing that she had been discourteous, "I do not minimise your sufferings, which I am sure were severe."

"I feel great at the moment, though," I said, looking down at my clean, unblemished hands. "Where are we, exactly?"

"Well, I was going to ask you that," said Crighton, looking around. "Where would you say that we are?"

Until Crighton had asked, I had not known. Now, however, I found that I had an answer ready to give.

"It looks," I said slowly, "like the Sub House. Except a lot cleaner, and empty, and there are no submarines as far as I can see."

"The Sub House!" Crighton was chuckling immoderately. "Good gracious, really?"

"Well, where do you think we are?" I asked, a little defensively.

"My dear girl, I have no idea. This is, as they say, _your_ party."

I had no idea what this meant; Crighton was being infuriating. I glared at her, but then I remembered a much more pressing question than that of our current location.

"The Deathly Hand of Holiness," I said, and I was glad to see that the words wiped the smile from Crighton's face.

"Ah, yes," she said. She even looked a little worried.

"Well?"

For the first time since I had met Crighton, she looked less than an old woman, much less. She looked, fleetingly, like a small girl caught in wrongdoing.

"Can you forgive me?" she said. "Can you forgive me for not trusting you? For not telling you? Kiara, I only feared that you would fail as I had failed. I only dreaded that you would make my mistakes. I crave your pardon, Kiara. I have known, for some time now, that you are the better woman."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, startled by Crighton's tone, by the sudden tears in her eyes.

"The Hand, the Hand," murmured Crighton. "A desperate woman's dream!"

"But they're real!"

"Real, and dangerous, and a lure for fools," said Crighton. "And I was such a fool. But you know, don't you? I have no secrets from you any more. You know."

"What do I know?"

Crighton turned her whole body to me, and tears still sparkled in her brilliantly green eyes.

"Mistress of Death, Kiara, mistress of Death! Was I better, ultimately, than Zira?"

"Of course you were," I said. "Of course - how can you ask that? You never killed if you could avoid it!"

"True, true," said Crighton, and she was like a child seeking reassurance. "Yet I, too, sought a way to conquer death, Kiara."

"Not the way she did," I said. After all my anger at Crighton, I found it odd to be sitting there, beneath the high vaulted ceiling, defending Crighton from herself. "The Hand, not the Horcruxes."

"The Hand," murmured Crighton, "not the Horcruxes. Precisely."

There was a pause. The creature behind us whimpered, but I no longer looked round.

"Femwazz was looking for them too?" I asked.

Crighton closed her eyes for a moment, and nodded.

"It was the thing, above all, that drew us together," she said quietly. "Two clever, arrogant girls with a shared obsession. She wanted to come to the Pride Lands, as I am sure you have guessed, because of the grave of Imani Paducha. She wanted to explore the place the third sister had died."

"So it's true?" I asked. "All of it? The Paducha sisters - "

" - were the three sisters of the tale," said Crighton, nodding. "Oh yes, I think so. Whether they met Death on a lonely road … I think it more likely that the Paducha sisters were simply gifted, dangerous witches who succeeded in creating those powerful objects. The story of them being Death's own Hand of Holiness seems to me the sort of legend that might have sprung up around such creation.

"The Cloak, as you now know, travelled down through the ages, mother to daughter, father to son, right down to Imani's last living descendant, who was born, as Imani was, in the Pride Lands."

Crighton smiled at me.

"Me?"

"You. You have guessed, I know, why the Cloak was in my possession on the day you and your parents were separated from each other. Nala had showed it to me just a few days previously. It explained much of her undetected wrongdoing at school! I believe Simba told her that his father had it when he was younger, and said that it would one day be passed on to him, which of course, it did, only through my hands as his father had died before he got the chance to give it to him. It was given to me by Sarabi, who did not want it falling into the wrong hands, but that's a different story. Anyway, Nala, realising he was alive, sneaked into his dormitory to get the Cloak, something she did quite a lot over the course of her school career.

"Anyway, I could hardly believe what I was seeing. I asked to borrow it, to examine it. I had long since given up my dream of uniting the Hand, but I could not resist, could not help taking a closer look … It was a Cloak the likes of which I had never seen, immensely old, perfect in every respect … and then you and your parents were separated, and I, knowingly, had two Fingers all to myself!"

Her tone was unbearably bitter.

"The Cloak wouldn't have helped them to survive if Zira had tried to kill them that day, though," I said quickly. "She knew where my mum and dad were anyway. The Cloak wouldn't have made them curse-proof."

"True," sighed Crighton. "True."

I waited, but Crighton did not speak, so I prompted her.

"So you'd given up looking for the Hand when you saw the Cloak?"

"Oh yes," said Crighton faintly. It seemed that she forced herself to meet my eyes. "You know what happened. You know. You cannot despise me more than I despise myself."

"But I don't despise you - "

"Then you should," said Crighton. She drew a deep breath. "You know the secret of my brother's ill-health, what those Muggles did, what he became. You know how my poor mother sought revenge, and paid the price, died in Azkaban. You know how my father gave up his own life to care for Sean.

"I resented it, Kiara."

Crighton stated it baldly, coldly. She was looking, now, over the top of my head, into the distance.

"I was gifted, I was brilliant. I wanted to escape. I wanted to shine. I wanted glory.

"Do not misunderstand me," she said, and pain crossed the face so that she looked ancient again. "I loved them. I loved my parents, I loved my sister and my brother, but I was selfish, Kiara, more selfish than you, who are a remarkably selfless person, could possibly imagine.

"So that, when my father died, and I was left the responsibility of a damaged brother and a wayward sister, I returned to my home in anger and bitterness. Trapped and wasted, I thought! And then, of course, she came …"

Crighton looked directly into my eyes again.

"Femwazz. You cannot imagine how her ideas caught me, Kiara, inflamed me. Muggles forced into subservience. We wizards triumphant. Femwazz and I, the glorious young leaders of the revolution.

"Oh, I had a few scruples. I assuaged my conscience with empty words. It would all be for the good of the magical, and any harm done would be repaid a hundredfold in benefits for wizards. Did I know, in my heart of hearts, what Felitica Femwazz was? I think I did, but I closed my eyes. If the plans we were making came to fruition, all my dreams would come true.

"And at the heart of our schemes, the Deathly Hand of Holiness! How they fascinated her, how they fascinated both of us! The Stick of Fear, the weapon that would lead us to power! The Resurrection Stone - to her, though I pretended not to know it, it mean an army of Inferi! To me, I confess, it meant the return of my parents, and the lifting of all responsibility from my shoulders.

"And the Cloak … somehow, we never discussed the Cloak much, Kiara. Both of us could conceal ourselves well enough without the Cloak, the true magic of which, of course, is that I can be used to protect and shield others as well as its owner. I thought that if we ever found it, it might be useful in hiding Sean, but our interest in the Cloak was mainly that it completed the trio, for the legend said that the woman who united all three objects would then be truly mistress of death, which we took to mean, invincible.

"Invincible mistresses of death, Femwazz and Crighton! Two months of insanity, of cruel dreams, and neglect of the only two members of my small family left to me.

"And then … you know what happened. Reality returned, in the form of my rough, unlettered, and infinitely more admirable sister. I did not want o hear the truths she shouted at me. I did not want to hear that I could not set forth to seek the Hand with a fragile and unstable brother in tow.

"The argument became a fight. Femwazz lost control. That which I had always sensed in her, though I pretended not to, now sprang into terrible being. And Sean … after all my father's care and caution … lay dead upon the floor."

Crighton gave a little gasp, and began to cry in earnest. I reached out, and I was glad to find that I could touched her: I gripped her arm tightly, and Crighton gradually regained control.

"Well, Femwazz fled, as anyone but I could have predicted. She vanished, with her plans for seizing power, and her schemes for Muggle torture, and her dreams of the Deathly Hand of Holiness, dreams in which I had encouraged her and helped her. She ran, while I was left to bury my brother and learn to live with my guilt, and my terrible grief, the price of my shame.

"Years passed. There were rumours about her. They said she had procured a wand of immense power. I, meanwhile, was offered the post of Minister for Magic, not once, but several times. Naturally, I refused. I had learned that I was not to be trusted with power."

"But you'd have been better, much better, than Sweets or Scrimwazz!" I burst out.

"Would I?" asked Crighton heavily. "I am not so sure. I had proven, as a very young woman, that power was my weakness and my temptation. It is a curious thing, Kiara, but perhaps those who are best suited to power are those wo have never sought it. Those who, like you, have leadership thrust upon them, and take up the mantle because they must, and find to their own surprise that they wear it well.

"I was safer at Dragon Mort. I think I was a good teacher - "

"You were the best - "

"You are very kind, Kiara. But while I busied myself with the training of young wizards, Femwazz was raising an army. They say she feared me, and perhaps she did, but less, I think, than I feared her.

"Oh, not death," said Crighton, in answer to my questioning look. "Not what she could do to me magically. I knew that we were evenly matched, perhaps that I was a shade more skilful. It was the truth I feared. You see, I never knew which of us, in that last, horrific fight, had actually cast the curse that killed my brother. You may call me cowardly: you would be right. Kiara, I dreaded beyond all things the knowledge that it had been I who brought about his death, not merely though my arrogance and stupidity, but that I actually struck the blow that snuffed out his life.

"I think she knew it, I think she knew what frightened me. I delayed meeting her until, finally, it would have been too shameful to resist any longer. People were dying and she seemed unstoppable, and I had to do what I could.

"Well, you know what happened next. I won the duel. I won the wand."

Another silence. I did not ask whether Crighton had even found out who struck Sean dead. I did not want to know, and even less did I want Crighton to have to tell me. At last I knew what Crighton had seen when she looked in the Mirror of Straeh, and why Crighton had been so understanding of the fascination it had exercised over me.

We sat in silence for a long time, and the whimperings of the creature behind us barely disturbed me any more.

At last I said, "Femwazz tried to stop Zira going after the wand. She lied, you know, pretended she had never had it."

Crighton nodded, looking down at her lap, tears still glittering on the crooked nose.

"They say she showed remorse in later years, alone in her cell at Mahali Kuhamisha. I hope that it is true. I would like to think she did feel the horror and shame of what she had done. Perhaps that lie to Zira was her attempt to make amends … to prevent Zira from taking the Finger …"

" … or maybe from breaking into your tomb?" I suggested, and Crighton dabbed her eyes.

After another short pause, I said, "You tried to use the Resurrection Stone."

Crighton nodded.

"When I discovered it, after all those years, buried in the home of the Mackays, the Finger I had craved most of all - though in my youth I had wanted it for very different reasons - I lost my head, Kiara. I quite forgot it was now a Horcrux, that it was sure to carry a curse. I picked it up, and I put it on, and for a second I imagined that I was about to see Sean, and my father, and my mother, and to tell them how very, very sorry I was …

"I was such a fool, Kiara. After all those years, I had learned nothing. I was unworthy yo unite the Deathly Hand of Holiness, I had proved it time and again, and here was the final proof."

"Why?" I said. "It was natural! You wanted to see them again. What's wrong with that?"

"Maybe a woman in a million could unite the Hand, Kiara. I was fit to possess the meanest of them, the least extraordinary. I was fit to own the Stick of Fear, and not to boast of it, and not to kill with it. I was permitted to tame and to use it, because I took it, not for gain, bit to save others from it.

"But the Cloak, I took out of vain curiosity, and so it could never have worked for me as it works for you, its true owner. The Stone I would have used in an attempt to drag back those who are at peace, rather than to enable my self-sacrifice, as you did. You are the worthy possessor of the Hand."

Crighton patted my hand, and I looked up at the old woman, and smiled; I could not help myself. How could I remain angry with Crighton now?

"Why did you have to make it so difficult?"

Crighton's smile was tremulous.

"I am afraid I counted on Sian to slow you up, Kiara. I was afraid that your hot head might dominate your good heart. I was scared that, if presented outright with the facts about those tempting objects, you might seize the Hand as I did, as the wrong time, for the wrong reasons. If you laid hands on them, I wanted you to possess them safely. You are the true mistress of death, because the true mistress does not seek to run away from Death. She accepts that she must die, and understands that there are far, far worse things in the living world than dying." Then Crighton's expression became heavy, and she sighed deeply and said, "Ah, Sian, how I have wronged her. Not just on the night when I turned from her," she added hastily. "I regret it heavily, Kiara, and I always will. But I'm talking about what happened in her childhood …"

"What are you talking about? What terrible thing happened to Sian when she was younger to make you speak so?" I asked, wondering where this was going.

"You know that she was cursed, Kiara, and how I saved her. Well, on the day in question, her father and I made some decisions that changed her life forever, but never for a second did we realise that she was going to lose out on her whole childhood." Crighton cast me a grateful smile. "That's why Matthew and I are glad you and Sian met, Kiara, for you gave her back a lot of the warmth she had lost growing up. I said you two were going to do each other worlds of good."

I smiled at that, remembering that once we were not so close. Then a thought struck me. "That's why you and Mr Dawson let Sian be in control of the others growing up, isn't it, ma'am? And why you are so close to her?"

"Partially, yes," said Crighton, nodding. "I knew that she would protect her family better than I would my own, but I should have done more. I should have been there for my other children more, got to know them better, given Sian some time to herself, but I didn't, and it was because I was scared, scared that I would fail my family again. And, in a way, I did. True, I did get reports from Sian about how they were when I saw her, but it's not the same.

"You know, Kiara, how people have been saying how alike Sian and I are for years now, and in a way we are - particularly in looks - but I have at long last come to the realisation that Sian is a far better person than I could ever hope to be. She's a lot braver, stronger, cleverer and wiser person than I am, too. Not just in terms of how she has cared for her family, for she has been more of a mother to her siblings than I ever could, but also for how she stood up for you after your name was pulled out of the Goblet of Fire, and I don't think she'll ever know just how much pride, admiration and respect I have for her."

I sat there, stunned by Crighton's words about Sian, for I never thought I would hear such things from her. And then another thought hit me.

"Ma'am, what is this secret Sian's got?"

"That will be for Sian to tell," said Crighton, smiling gently. "If you do want to go back, of course."

I did not want to think about that just yet, so I decided to go back a bit and talk a little more about the Hand.

"And Zira never knew about the Hand?"

"I do not think so, because she did not recognise the Resurrection Stone she had turned into a Horcrux. But even if she had known about them, Kiara, I doubt that she would have been interested in any except the first. She would not think that she needed the Cloak, and, as for the Stone, whom would she want to bring back from the dead? She fears the dead. She does not love."

"But you expected her to go after the wand?"

"I was sure that she would try, ever since your wand beat Zira's in the graveyard of Port Harcourt. At first, she was afraid that you had conquered her by superior skill. Once she had kidnapped Wandwick, however, she discovered the existence of the twin cores. She thought that explained everything. Yet the borrowed wand did no better against yours! So Zira, instead of asking herself what quality it was in you that made your wand so strong, what gift you possessed that she did not, naturally set out to find the wand that, they said, would beat any other. For her, the Stick of Fear had become an obsession to rival her obsession with you. She believes that the Stick of Fear removes her last weakness and makes her truly invincible. Poor Tiana …"

"If you planned your death with Triphorm, you meant her to end up with the Stick of Fear, didn't you?"

"I admit that was my intention," said Crighton, "but it did not work as I intended, did it?"

"No," I said. "That bit didn't work out."

The creature behind us jerked and moaned, and Crighton and I sat without talking for the longest time yet. The realisation of what would happen next settled gradually over me in the long minutes, like softly falling snow.

"I've got to go back, haven't I?"

"That is up to you."

"I've got a choice?"

"Oh yes." Crighton smiled at me. "We are in the Sub House, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to … let's say … board a submarine."

"And where would it take me?"

"On," said Crighton simply.

Silence again.

"Zira's got the Stick of Fear."

"True. Zira has the Stick of Fear."

"But you want me to go back?"

"I think," said Crighton, "that if you chose to return, there is a chance that she may be finished for good. I cannot promise it. But I know this, Kiara, that you have far less to fear from returning here than she does."

I glanced again at the raw-looking thing that trembled and choked in the shadow beneath the distant chair.

"Do not pity the dead, Kiara. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love. By returning, you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, fewer families are torn apart. If that seems to you a worthy goal, then we say goodbye for the present."

I nodded and sighed. Leaving this place would not be nearly as hard as walking into the Forest had been, but it was warm and light and peaceful here, and I knew that I was heading back to pain and the fear of more loss. I stood up, and Crighton did the same, and we looked for a moment into each other's faces.

"Tell me one last thing," I said. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"

Crighton beamed at me, and her voice sounded loud and strong in my ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring her figure.

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Kiara, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"


	15. Chapter 15

**AN 1: So, here it is, the final chapter of part 2. Just a few things before you read on. First, that for those of you who don't know who Athena Amethyst Phoenixclaw really is yet, then you will find out in this chapter, and for those of you who have figured it out, congratulations, but either way, I hope I have made it a good story and puzzle for you to solve. Also, Kopa's identity is revealed, although that's not so much of a mystery as the other one is, but still. Anyway, enjoy this chapter, and see the bottom for more notes.**

 **Chapter 15**

 **The Flaw in the Plan**

 **KIARA**

I was lying face down on the ground again. The smell of the Forest filled my nostrils. I could feel the hard ground beneath my cheek, as well as a cold, dead hand next to my face. Every inch of me ached, and the place where the Killing Curse had hit me felt like the bruise of an iron-clad punch. I did not stir, but remained exactly where I had fallen, with my left arm bent out at an awkward angle and my mouth gaping.

I had expected to hear cheers of jubilation and triumph at my death, but instead hurried footsteps, whispers, and solicitous murmurs filled the air.

"My Lady … _my Lady_ …"

It was Katalina's voice, and she spoke as if to a lover. I did not dare open my eyes, but allowed my other senses to explore my predicament. I knew that my wand was still stowed between my chest and the ground. A slight cushioning effect in the area of my stomach told me that the Invisibility Cloak was also there, stuffed out of sight.

 _"My Lady …"_

"That will do," said Zira's voice.

More footsteps: several people were backing away from the same spot. Desperate to see what was happening, and why, I opened my eyes by a millimetre.

Zira seemed to be getting to her feet. Various Love Destroyers were hurrying away from her, returning to the crowd lining the clearing. Katalina alone remained behind, kneeling beside Zira.

I closed my eyes again and considered what I had seen. The Love Destroyers had been huddled round Zira, who seemed to have fallen to the ground. Something had happened when she had hit me with the Killing Curse. Had Zira, too, collapsed? It seemed like it. And both of us had fallen briefly unconscious and both of us had now returned …

"My Lady, let me - "

"I do not require assistance," said Zira coldly, and though I could not see it, I pictured Katalina withdrawing a helpful hand. "The girl … is she dead?"

There was complete silence in the clearing. Nobody approached me, but I felt their concentrated gaze, it seemed to press me harder into the ground, and I was terrified a finger or an eyelid would twitch.

"You," said Zira, and there was a bang and a yell of pain. "Examine her. Tell me whether she is dead."

I did not know who had been sent to verify. I could only lie there, with my heart thumping traitorously, and wait to be examined, but at the same time noting, small comfort though it was, that Zira was wary of approaching me, that Zira suspected that all had not gone to plan …

Hands, strong yet softer than I had been expecting, touched my face, pulled back an eyelid, then touched my neck at the exact point that he could feel my pulse thundering through my body. I could hear the man's fast breathing, feel his long hair tickling my face. I knew that he could feel the steady pounding of life under his fingertips.

 _"Is Dani alive? Is she in the castle?"_

The whisper was barely audible; his lips were an inch from my ear, his head bent so low that his long hair shielded his face from the onlookers.

 _"Yes,"_ I breathed back.

I felt his other hand, that was currently resting on my shoulder, contract; his short nails dug into me. Then it was withdrawn. He had sat up.

"She is dead!" Latchna Malty called to the watchers.

And now they shouted, now they yelled in triumph and stamped their feet, and through my eyelids I saw bursts of red and silver light shoot into the air in celebration.

Still feigning death on the ground, I understood. Latchna knew that the only way he would be permitted to enter Dragon Mort, and find his daughter, was as part of the conquering army. He no longer cared whether Zira won.

"You see?" screeched Zira over the tumult. "Kiara Pride-Lander is dead by my hand, and no woman alive can threaten me now! Watch! _Crucio!_ "

I had been expecting it: I knew that my body would not be allowed to remain unsullied on the Forest floor, it must be subjected to humiliation to prove Zira's victory. I was lifted into the air and it took all my determination to remain limp, yet the pain I expected did not come. I was thrown once, twice, three times into the air: I felt my wand slide a little beneath my robes, but I kept myself floppy and lifeless, and when I fell to the ground for the last time the clearing echoed with jeers and shrieks of laughter.

"Now," said Zira, "we go to the castle, and show them what has become of their hero. Who shall drag the body? No - wait - "

There was a fresh outbreak of laughter, and after a few moments I felt the ground trembling beneath me.

"You carry her," Zira said. "She will be nice and visible in your arms, will she not? Pick up your little friend, Wickes. Leave her parents - they are no longer of use to us - "

The enormous hands that lifted me into the air were exceedingly gentle. I could feel Mina's arms trembling with the force of her heaving sobs, her great tears splashing down upon me as Mina cradled me into her arms, and I did not dare, by movement or word, to intimate to Mina that all was not, yet, lost.

"Move," said Zira, and Mina stumbled forwards, forcing her way through the close-growing trees, back through the Forest. Branches caught at my hair and robes, but I lay quiescent, my mouth lolling open, my eyes shut, and in the darkness, while the Love Destroyers crowded all around us, and while Mina sobbed blindly, nobody looked to see whether a pulse beat in my neck …

The two giants crashed along behind the Love Destroyers; I could hear trees creaking and falling as passed; they made so much din that birds rose, shrieking, into the sky and even the jeers of the Love Destroyers were drowned. The victorious procession marched on towards the open ground, and after a while I could tell, by the lightening of the darkness through my closed eyelids, that the trees were beginning to thin.

"BASHA!"

Mina's unexpected bellow nearly forced my eyes open. "Happy now, are yeh, that yeh didn' fight, yeh cowardly bunch o' nags? Are yeh happy Kiara Pride-Lander's d-d-dead …?"

Mina could not continue, but broke down in fresh tears. I wondered how many centaurs were watching our procession pass; I dared not open my eyes to look. Some of the Love Destroyers called insults at the centaurs as we left them behind. A little later, I sensed, by a freshening of the air, that we had reached the edge of the Forest.

"Stop."

I thought that Mina must have been forced to obey Zira's command, because she lurched a little. And now a chill settled over us where we stood, and I heard the rasping breath of the Stingers that patrolled the outer trees. They would not affect me now. The fact of my own survival burned inside me, a talisman against them, as though my mother's lioness kept guardian against my heart.

Someone passed close by me, and I knew that it was Zira herself because she spoke a moment later, her voice magically magnified so that it swelled through the grounds, crashing upon my eardrums.

"Kiara Pride-Lander is dead. She was killed as she ran away, trying to save herself while you lay down your lives for her. We bring you her body as proof that your hero is gone.

"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Love Destroyers outnumber you and the Girl Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle, now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, you brothers and sisters will live, and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

There was silence in the grounds and from the castle. Zira was so close to me that I did not dare open my eyes again.

"Come," said Zira, and I heard her move ahead, and Mina was forced to follow. Now I opened my eyes a fraction, and I saw Zira striding in front of us, wearing the great snake Namzo around her shoulders, who was now free of his enchanted cage. But I had no possibility of extracting the wand concealed under my robes without being noticed by the Love Destroyers who marched on either side of us through the slowly lightening darkness …

"Kiara," sobbed Mina. "Oh, Kiara … Kiara …"

I shut my eyes tight again. I knew that we were approaching the castle and I strained my ears to distinguish, above the gleeful voices of the Love Destroyers and their tramping footsteps, signs of life from those within.

"Stop."

The Love Destroyers came to a halt: I heard them spreading out in a line facing the open front doors of the school. I could see, even through my closed lids, the reddish glow that meant light streamed upon me from the Entrance Hall. I waited. Any moment, the people for whom I had tried to die would see my, lying apparently dead, in Mina's arms.

"NO!"

The scream that fell upon my ears was the more terrible to me because I had never expected or dreamed that Professor Darbus could make such a sound. I heard another woman laughing nearby, and I knew that Katalina gloried in Darbus' despair. I squinted again, for a single second, and saw the open doorway filling with people, as the survivors of the battle came out on to the front steps, to face their vanquishers, and see the truth of my death for themselves. I saw Zira standing a little in front of me, stroking Namzo's head with a single white finger. I closed my eyes again.

" _Kiara!_ KIARA!"

 _"No!"_

"No!"

Chris, Sian and Chrissie's voices were worse than Darbus'; I wanted nothing more than to call back, yet I made myself lie silent, and their cries acted like a trigger, the crowd of survivors took up the cause, screaming and yelling abuse at the Love Destroyers, until -

"SILENCE!" cried Zira, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upon them all. "It is over! set her down, Mina, at my feet, where she belongs!"

I felt myself lowered on to the grass.

"You see?" said Zira, and I felt her striding backwards and forwards right beside the place where I lay. "Kiara Pride-Lander is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? She was nothing, ever, but a girl who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for her!"

"She beat you!" yelled Chrissie, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Dragon Mort were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

"She was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," said Zira, and there was relish in her voice for the lie, "killed while trying to save herself - "

But Zira broke off: I heard a scuffle and a shout, then another bang, a flash of light and a scream of pain; I opened my eyes an infinitesimal amount. Someone had broken free of the crowd and charged at Zira: I saw the figure hit the ground, Disarmed, Zira throwing the challenger's wand aside and laughing.

"And who is this?" she said, in her soft snake's hiss. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Katalina gave a delighted laugh.

"It is Nikita Bore, my Lady! The girl who has been giving the Csintalans so much trouble! The daughter of the Aurors, remember?"

"Ah, yes, I remember," said Zira, looking down at Nikita, who was struggling back to her feet, unarmed and unprotected, standing in the no-man's-land between the survivors and the Love Destroyers. "But you are a pure-blood, aren't you, my brave girl?" Zira asked Nikita, who stood facing her, her empty hands curled in fists.

"So what if I am?" said Nikita loudly.

"You show spirit, and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Love Destroyer. We need your kind, Nikita Bore."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," said Nikita. "Crighton's Army!" she shouted, and there was an answering cheer from the crowd, whom Zira's silencing charms seemed unable to hold.

"Very well," said Zira, and I heard more danger in the silkiness of her voice than in the most powerful curse. "If that is your choice, Bore, we revert to the original plan. On your feet," she said quietly, "so be it."

Still watching through my lashes, I saw Zira wave her wand. Seconds later, out of one of the castle's shattered windows, something large and heavy-looking flew through the half-light and landed in Zira's arms. She put it on the floor and tapped the lock: at once, it sprang open, and the four Sorting-Heads came soaring out.

"There will be no more Sorting at Dragon Mort School," said Zira. "There will be no more houses. The emblem, shield and colours of my noble ancestor, Selina Snake-Eyes, will suffice for everyone, won't they, Nikita Bore?"

She pointed her wand at Nikita, who grew rigid and still, then waved her wand again so that Nikita rose, as though picked up by invisible hands, and drew her forwards. Once she was directly over the Sorting-Chest, Zira gave another flick of her wand, and Nikita dropped, rigidly, into the box. There were movements from the watching crowd in front of the castle, and as one, the Love Destroyers raised their wands, holding the fighters of Dragon Mort at bay, and from where I lay, I could just make out the four Sorting-Heads looking at each other from where they hovered, then back at the scene below.

"Nikita here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," said Zira, and with another flick of her wand, she caused the Sorting-Chest to burst into flames.

Screams split the dawn, and Nikita was aflame, rooted to the spot, unable to move, and I could not bear it: I must act -

And then many things happened at once.

We heard uproar from the distant boundary of the school as what sounded like hundreds of people came swarming over the out-of-sight walls and pelted towards the castle, uttering loud war cries. At the same time, Harlow came lumbering round the side of the castle and yelled, "MINA!" Her cry was answered by roars from Zira's giants: they ran at Harlow like bull elephants, making the earth quake. Then came hooves, and the twangs of bows, and arrows were suddenly falling amongst the Love Destroyers, who broke ranks, shouting their surprise. I pulled the Invisibility Cloak from inside my robes, swung it over myself and sprang to my feet, as Nikita moved too.

In one swift, fluid motion Nikita broke free of the Body-Bind Curse upon her and jumped out of the Chest, then reached inside it and drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle -

The slash of the silver blade could not be heard over the roar of the oncoming crowd, or the sounds of the clashing giants, or of the stampeding centaurs, and yet it seemed to draw every eye. With a single stroke, Nikita sliced off the great snake's head, which spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the Entrance Hall and the glow of the Sorting-Heads, and Zira's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake's body thudded to the ground at her feet -

Hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, I cast a Shield Charm between Nikita and Zira before the latter could raise her wand. Then, over the screams, and the roars, and the thunderous stamps of the battling giants, Mina's yell came loudest of all.

"KIARA!" Mina shouted. "KIARA - WHERE'S KIARA?"

Chaos reigned. The charging centaurs were scattering the Love Destroyers, everyone was fleeing the giants' stamping feet, and nearer and nearer thundered the reinforcements that had come from who knew where; I saw great winged creatures soaring around the heads of Zira's giants, Thestrals and Noelani the Hippogriff scratching at their eyes while Harlow punched and pummelled them; and now the wizards, defended of Dragon Mort and Zira's Love Destroyers alike, were being forced back into the castle. I was shooting jinxes and curses at any Love Destroyer I could see, and they crumpled, not know what or who had hit them, and their bodies were trampled by the retreating crowd.

Still hidden beneath the Invisibility Cloak, I was buffeted into the Entrance Hall: I was searching for Zira and I saw her across the room, firing spells from her wand as she backed into the Great Hall, still screaming instructions to her followers as she sent curses flying left and right; I cast more Shield Charms, and Zira's would-be victims, Zara Finn and Hendry Abbott, darted past me into the Great Hall where they joined the fight already flourishing inside it.

And now there were more, even more people storming up the front steps, and I saw Kat Fang overtaking Arachne Beadu, who was still wearing her emerald pyjamas. They seemed to have returned at the head of what looked like the families and friends of every Dragon Mort student who had returned to fight, along with the shopkeepers and homeowners of Dragsmeade. The centaurs Basha, Madara and Rowan burst into the Hall with a clatter of hooves, as behind me the door that led to the kitchens was blasted off its hinges.

The house-elves of Dragon Mort swarmed into the Entrance Hall, screaming and waving carving knives and cleavers, and at their head, the locket of Okoro Warts bouncing on her chest, was Kleaner, her bullfrog's voice audible even above the din: "Fight! Fight! Fight for my mistress, defender of house-elves! Fight the Scarlet Lady, in the name of brave Okoro! Fight!"

They were hacking and stabbing at the ankles and shins of Love Destroyers, their tiny faces alike with malice, and everywhere I looked Love Destroyers were folding under the sheer weight of numbers, overcome by spells, dragging arrows from wounds, stabbed in the leg by elves, or else simply attempting to escape, but swallowed by the oncoming horde.

But it was not over yet: I sped between duellers, past struggling prisoners, and into the Great Hall.

Zira was standing in the centre of the battle, and she was striking and smiting all within reach. I could not get a clear shot, but I fought my way nearer, still invisible, and the Great Hall became more and more crowded, as everyone who could walk forced their way inside.

I saw Yap slammed to the floor by Geri and Leah Jones, saw Dali fall with a scream at Winds' hands, saw Magro thrown across the room by Mina, hit the stone wall opposite and slide unconscious to the ground. I saw Chrissie and Nikita bringing down Rasputin Silverfur, Sara Stunning Roscoe, Matt and Perdy flooring Thicko, Kopa hexing Nuka Outsider, and Latchna and Narissa Malty running through the crowd, not even attempting to fight, screaming for their daughter.

Zira was now duelling Darbus, Beadu and Kara all at once, and there was cold hatred in her face as they wove and ducked around her, unable to finish her -

Katalins was fighting too, fifty yards away from Zira, and like her mistress she duelled three at once: Chris, Ben and Lincoln, all battling their hardest, but Katalina was equal to them, and my attention was diverted as a Killing Curse shot so close to Chris that he missed death by an inch -

I changed course, running at Katalina rather than Zira, but before I had gone a few steps I was stopped by Sian's yell of fury.

"HEY! LAY OFF MY FAMILY!"

Sian shot at Katalina, who stumbled by the force of the spell as Sian ran forwards, sending the others back, and facing Katalina with a strong, determined look of fury on her face as Katalina moved back to her original position.

"So, here we meet again, Eldest Dawson Girl!" Katalina said loudly. "And not for the first time, either; for you were just a child the first time we met, remember?"

"Of course I remember!" Sian spat loudly. "How could I ever forget what you did to me as a child, never mind the nightmares that have plagued me for years!"

Sian's words got everyone's attention, and Love Destroyers and Dragon Mort survivors alike formed a large circle around Sian and Katalina, who stood where they were, their wands at their sides, each trying to size the other up.

"Katie, isn't this the Eldest Dawson Girl?" said Zira suddenly. "Crighton's eldest child? The one who - ?"

"Yes, I am," said Sian, looking at Zira, and there was not a single trace of fear in her eyes. "And to be honest, I am quite surprised that it has taken you this long to recognise me, seeing as how I look so much like my mother. But it is not you I have a score to settle with." She looked back at Katalina. "I've been waiting for this moment for years," she growled.

"As have I," sneered Katalina. "But I am confused as to how you are still alive, for last I saw you, you were on your last legs."

"Well, let's just say that the support you have from those around you can go a long way and leave it at that," said Sian, smiling slightly. Then her expression turned serious as she said, "I do know that one of us will die tonight, and if it has to be me, then so be it."

There were gasps and expressions of shock at Sian's words. I looked at Zira, and even she was stunned by the matter-of-fact tone with which Sian spoke.

Katalina's face was blank. "You are not afraid to die?" she asked, slightly amused.

Sian shook her head. "No. I do not fear death. When my time comes I shall accept my fate with my head held high and welcome it head on. Besides, I have escaped death quite a few times over the years, even before I entered this school."

Most people, I saw, were confused by Sian's words, I amongst them. Katalina asked, "What do you mean by that, Dawson?"

Sian gave a hollow laugh as she answered, "It's funny you should ask that, Katalina, seeing as my story begins with you."

Murmurs filled the Hall at these words, but they were instantly quelled as Sian spoke to the Hall at large.

"As you have all heard by now, Katalina Outsider here escaped Azkaban's clutches when she and three others attacked Nikita's parents, and three years after that she attacked a four years old girl. But what you don't know is that the child that she attacked was me, and I have the scar to prove it …"

Sian pulled down her right sleeve a little to reveal the top of a large scar that was not like any scar I had ever seen, for instead of the lines looking faint and white, they seemed to be alive, as the insides of the lines moved with some fresh, strange energy and looked reddish-gold in colour.

I gasped aloud in shock at seeing the wound, and I was not the only one who did, for Sian turned slowly on the spot, showing everyone what Katalina did to her, and almost everyone gasped: the only ones who didn't were her family and Zira.

Once she had shown everyone her scar, Sian covered it up, and Professor Darbus asked her, "How did this happen to you, Sian?"

"Well, it all started in the summer of ninety-seven," said Sian. "Our mother was home with us all for that year because of Lord Voldemort and his forces taking over. Anyway, one morning there came a knock on the door. My mother answered it, and on our doorstep was a little girl, about my age, who said that she had moved somewhere close by with her parents, and that she wished to meet me. My mother was confused as to why her parents weren't with her, but the girl said that they had dropped her off at the gates. My mother was cautious, but she didn't want to stop me from making friends, so she allowed the girl entry and introduced us.

"We clicked at once, and slowly but surely the weeks passed, and as they did I began to notice that, as much as I liked the girl, I felt there was something rather off about her, for we would be talking, and I would remember talking, and then - blank. I couldn't remember what we had been talking about. Of course, looking back now I realise that I was being possessed, but how was I, a mere innocent, naïve child, to know that? I expressed my concerns to my mother, who seemed just as worried as I was, and she told me that she would keep a close eye on us from that moment on, for which I was grateful, for I didn't think I would be here without her …"

Sian then closed her eyes, took a deep breath and continued, "So, months passed, and there was no sign of the girl's parents as she came over to my house, which my siblings and I paid no attention to. But then, on the fourth of August, my life changed forever.

"The day started out as normal as any other. The girl came over and she and I were talking in the garden as it was a nice day. But then she started to change. She grew taller, towering over me, grinning evilly, maniacally at me, and that was the first time I ever came face to face - properly, I might add - with Katalina Outsider.

"She told me that she had been instructed by her mistress many years ago to possess me, the firstborn of Susan Crighton's children, in order to gain as much information on her as possible, and that now I had served my purpose that there was no reason left for me to live. And before I could say or do anything, she clenched my right arm tightly and started to drain my life force, using some sort of Dark Magic that I have no idea of, nor do I want to know.

"It was pain beyond anything I have ever felt before. It felt as thought all of my energy was being ripped apart from my body as I was screaming in agony, for what or who I don't know. But I know that I wasn't screaming for long, because Katalina was forced to let go of me. I was pretty weak so I don't know who saved me, but I felt a pair of soft, secure arms pick me up, carrying me into the house, murmuring reassuring things into my hair in a soft, musical voice. And it was only then that I knew that it was my mother who had saved me, and ever since that day our bond has only grown stronger.

"Naturally, Katalina fled. My mother contacted my father as soon as she could, and he and some friends of his from the Ministry worked tirelessly to track her down. Eventually they caught her, where I don't know, but instead of taking her to the Ministry, they took her straight to Azkaban, saying to the guards that she was a Muggle-born they had been told to bring straight there for attacking one of the guard that had brought her to Azkaban. No questions were asked after that, and she was put in a high security cell. Of course, this all came out about a year later because of Voldemort's influence over the Ministry.

"At home, meanwhile, my parents were worried that what happened to me could well happen to any other person, and they did not want that to happen again, which was natural. So they decided to put up a shield around our home, making it unplottable, and making sure the barrier would stay up long enough in case we were under attack and needed to escape quickly. But little did I know that my parents had plans for me too."

"What was it they had planned for you, Miss Dawson?" asked Professor Darbus.

"Well, naturally for a few months after Katalina had attacked me I was too traumatised to move much, which led to my mother giving me therapy sessions in order to try and cure me. Eventually, after a few months, I started to feel brave enough to start talking to my brothers and sisters again and to start going outside again, but I was very much a changed person. I was more of a nervous wreck in those days than anything else, and that was when my parents decided to take action.

"So, one afternoon, my parents sat me down in their bedroom and told me that they were not happy with how I was attacked, like and parents would be," said Sian. "But I didn't realise that mean that they were going to put me under a tough training regime until they told me a few minutes later, adding that they didn't want what happened to me happening to another person, and that what I would be doing would enable me to help protect the family if they weren't there. And like the dutiful, obedient child I was, I agreed, and I wasn't doing it just for my family and my parents, but for me as well, for I was afraid, afraid that it would happen to me again, never mind being afraid for my siblings' safety, too.

"I did not let that fear or my nerves take hold of me, however. No, I used it as my motivation through my training, which did not consist of any magical means at all. My training consisted purely of Muggle techniques, learning a variety of self-defence and martial arts skills. I was a fast learner and progressed rather quickly, and I found that while I was training, I was becoming tougher and stronger, leaving my innocence and my childhood behind, so that by the time I was five I was an adult.

"Of course, I don't blame you, Dad, or Ma, for taking away my childhood," said Sian, finding her father's face in the crowd and smiling at him gently. "I know that you both thought that what you were doing was best for me at the time, and it was the best decision you have made for me, for it made me the woman I am today. I'm grateful to you and Ma for that, Dad, and I always will be."

I found Mr Dawson, who was standing close to me between Chrissie and Merida, and he was smiling proudly at Sian, who held his gaze for a few seconds then turned back to Katalina, her expression turning serious once again.

"So with my training during the day and looking after my siblings at night, the year flew by pretty quickly. But what I didn't know was that my parents were secretly recording my progress, which I did not find out about until one day when I was five, when my training was put on hold, and I was taken to an organization called Global Justice, and it was there that I learned that my parents had been giving them my video recordings and they were pleased with the progress I was making, and so they asked me if I wanted a job being one of their agents, protecting the world against the evil that dared to destroy it. Hearing this, I agreed at once.

"And so my martial arts and self-defence training continued, along with military training, bomb disposal training and learning how to use a variety of weapons, like guns and swords, and in between all this training I was sent out on my first missions with a team at hand, because I was new and young and they wanted to keep an eye on me.

"I worked with the team for about three months I was that good. After that I only worked alone, using the team for the most dangerous of missions when I really needed the back-up. My line of work has sent me all across the world, saving millions of people in different countries, and becoming a legend of my time, and I wouldn't change a single moment of it."

"If this is all true," said Zira suddenly, looking curiously at Sian, "then why haven't we heard your name? After all, you can hardly go round saving millions and not have your name said."

"Ah, I forgot to mention," said Sian. "You see, I was so young when I entered Global Justice that I knew I wouldn't be able to handle being in the spotlight, so I created an identity for myself, with a name included, so that when the press took any pictures of me, they see my alter-ego and be satisfied, and in the early days I would leave a card with my alias' name on. It was tough keeping it secret, but I had to, until now …"

As she spoke, Sian pulled out some concealer and dabbed it on her face so that it covered her freckles, then she took out a packet of contact lenses from her bag, opening it up and putting one in each eye, so that her eyes were now a clear, brilliant blue. She then closed the container, put it back in her bag and pulled out a straight-haired ginger wig, and as she put it on, she said, "You see, I am not just Sian Dawson, Susan Crighton's eldest daughter, but I am also - "

Sian pulled out a device that looked like a flip phone out of her bag once she had fixed her wig, placed it on her belt and pressed the big, shiny purple button in the middle. At once, her warrior gear changed: her boots became cargo boots, her skirt was replaced by black slim exercise pants reaching to her boots and her top became a purple T-shirt, and when she was revealed, I was not the only one who gasped aloud in shock and surprise at Sian's secret identity, for you see, my dear readers, she was also -

" - Athena Amethyst Phoenixclaw, the Girl Who Saves the World," she said, looking right at Katalina's stunned face as she finished. I was just as stunned as she felt, but then I thought back to when I first met Sian, to how cold, distant and harsh she was, how mature she was for her age, how secretive she was. And then all those times over the summer holidays I had spent with the Dawsons, and all those times Sian had disappeared for a few hours at a time, not to mention her reaction when Wandwick was captured. It all was starting to make sense … but there were still some things that did not quite add up …

As Sian removed the contacts and the wig and changed back into her warrior clothes, it was Professor Darbus who asked, "So, now we know who you are, Miss Dawson, how is it you never left school to help those in need? How are we all only hearing about this now? And why did none of your family ever tell us?"

"Well, you see, ma'am, I never left school because my mother wanted me to do well with my education, and therefore asked Global Justice if I could only be assigned to missions during the summer holidays, which they agreed to. They have other good agents besides me, so it wasn't too much of a loss for them.

"As for my family not telling anyone about my double life … well, that was because I asked them not to, as it was my secret to have and mine to tell when I chose, which I do now because I came to the decision a few years ago that, no matter the outcome of this war, I would be retiring on the night of the battle."

Once again, a good deal of muttering filled the Great Hall at Sian's words, and Chrissie asked, "Are you sure this is what you want, S.D.?"

"Well, I can't keep saving the world forever, Chrissie," said Sian, "and there are plenty of other good agents besides me there. But at last I have come to the point where I can say, "I'm done," and as hard as it is for me to leave that old life behind, I really want to start a new chapter by settling down and having a family. And yes, I know that I have made many enemies and I know that my life, and the lives of those I love, will be in danger from now on because of who I am, but I've had enough of hiding any more, and it's about time I told those I love the most the truth."

Her eyes found Kopa's in the crowd then and she shot him a quick smile, then turned her attention back to Katalina, her expression becoming serious again.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself. So, I worked hard over the years, saving millions of lives all over the world, but I changed. With each year that passed I became stronger, harder and a much more cold-hearted person, treating my siblings coldly at times too. The only person who I showed any type of warmth to was my mother, but I hated how coldly I treated everyone else, but at that point I didn't know how to change, and to be honest with you all, I never thought I could as I was too far gone.

"But as it turns out, I was mistaken, for on my first day of Dragon Mort I met a girl with long golden hair, who I did not think much of at first, but after a couple of months we became friends, and she helped to ease the iciness around my heart, and because of her friendship that helped me find my true match not three years later, and for that I will be forever grateful to her."

A soft little smile graced her features, then disappeared as she glared fiercely at Katalina, who glared right back at her, her wand clenched tightly in her hand.

"And so, now you and everyone else here knows about my life, and how it changed because of what you did to me all those years ago! And now, I think it right that, just like with Kiara and your precious mistress over there, that this must end between you and I … and you and I … alone."

For several long moment the two witches glared at each other, the air in the Great Hall so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife: no one moved, no one appeared to be breathing. Everyone watched as Sian opened her beaded bag, reached pointed her wand in it and silently Summoned Katalina's wand, which she threw to her. Katalina caught it, and threw the other wand away. They glared at each other again, neither moving for a few moments. Then, as though they were thinking the same thought at the same time, Sian and Katalina raised their wands, and their own battle began.

To this day I have never seen a duel quite like that one. At first it started out as a typical duel would, with spells firing back and forth between them, and Sian moving her body in ways I had never seen her move before to dodge the curses from Katalina's wand: I swear, sometimes I rather thought Sian's bones were elastic she was the flexible.

The duel went on, and at one point Katalina, forgetting about the wand in her hand, ran at Sian, who was more than ready for her: she put her hands on the floor, swiped her legs under Katalina's to trip her up, but before she could fall Sian kicked her under the chin to bring her back up again, and then she spun around on her hands, her legs snapping shut, and she kicked Katalina hard in the chest, sending her staggering backwards, as Sian got back to her feet effortlessly.

And so the duel continued like this, with wands and fists and feet involved, and now shouts of encouragement began to ring through the Great Hall (mainly for Sian), as the battle became more dangerous, more furious, and though Katalina got a few more cuts and scratches, Sian, surprisingly, remained unscathed.

But then something happened: Sian's hair began to smoke, a sign that she was becoming furiously angry, but instead of cooling down, the smoke grew more heavy, surrounding her entire body, until her entire body became alight from the strange dark power that Katalina had transferred to her when she was just a child, which no one was expecting to happen, not even Zira, for even she took a step back from the strength of the flames that covered Sian's body.

Then, with her eyes a burning white, she pointed her wand at Katalina and, with a terrible scream of fury, the fire that was covering her seemed to travel through her wand and shot out of it with the force and noise of cannon fire: it hit Katalina with such force that she was struck still, her head thrown back in pain as the fire hit her in the chest, and as it continued to flow, it left Sian's body, not stopping until it was completely out of her and transferred back to its original owner.

As soon as it stopped, both women were bent over, breathing deeply. Sian was the first to stand up properly, and she immediately turned her attention to her right arm, and pushing down the top of her sleeve she looked at her scar, which was not glowing any more. It was just an ordinary marl.

Knowing this, Sian let go of her sleeve and stood at full height, glaring at Katalina and raising her wand once more, which amazingly had not been blown to bits. As soon as Katalina stood up straight again, Sian, not even waiting for Katalina to aim at her, struck her with a spell, and as she warmed up for it, the dust seemed to rise from the floor, traveling through Sian's body and through her wand, and the earth, along with the force of the curse, struck Katalina so hard that she was forced off her feet, flew through the air and hit the wall opposite. She fell to the floor with a thud and did not rise again, and the place where her head had smashed into the wall now had a huge crater in it, and a trail of blood followed her head to the floor.

All those who had dodged Katalina's body stood up slowly, and they, along with everyone else in the Great Hall turned slowly from Katalina's body to Sian, and no one moved or seemed to breathe again, but that was because all were awe-stricken by what Sian had just done, and it was only when Sian, who still had that rather fierce mask in place, exhaled slowly, looking as though a great fourteen-year-old weight had been lifted from her shoulders as she did, for she looked years younger in that moment, did a terrible scream of fury from Zira fill the Hall, which exploded with the force of a bomb at seeing the fall of her last, best lieutenant. Sian's relieved look quickly vanished, and before Zira could raise her wand to retaliate, before even I could raise my own wand to protect Sian, Kopa yelled, _"Protego!"_

A shield erupted between them: Zira pointed her wand at Kopa instead, blasting him aside; he hit the floor with a dull thud, grunting in pain.

 _"Kopa!"_ Sian screamed, but as soon as she said it she gasped and covered her mouth with both hands, looking frightenedly at Zira, who froze for a moment, her wand held in attack, looking confusedly at Sian.

"Kopa? What do you mean by - ?"

But she paused, looking past Sian at Kopa, who had got to his feet and, glaring at Zira, he reached up and untied the cloths covering his face, pulling them away at last.

Everyone gasped loudly at seeing Kopa properly for the first time, for he looked the spitting image of my father: he had the same hair, the same hair colour, the same face shape, and he was the same height as my father; he even had the same body shape, and I suddenly realised why his eyes looked so familiar, because they were the same colour and shape as my father's. The only thing that was different from my father was his skin colour, which was a couple of shades darker than it should be. I was so happy knowing that my brother Kopa, who I had been told was dead for so many years now, was alive and well after all, along with being relieved that Grandmother Sarafina and Kion were not the last of my living relatives after all. But how was he alive after all this time? And why had he never told me?

As though reading my thoughts, Zira asked in a soft hiss, "How is it possible that you are still alive?"

Kopa, who was now standing next to Sian, looked Zira directly in the eye and said, "It's true that I was on the verge of death when your followers left me in the wilderness all those years ago, but fortunately I was found by the Outsiders, who took me in and raised me as their own, and I am indebted to them. Well, Nuka not so much, but more so to the others."

"But why did you never tell anyone who you were?" asked Professor Darbus. "Not even Simba, Nala, Sarabi or Kiara knew. How could you put them all through that?"

A look of guilt passed over Kopa as he answered, "I am sorry that I never told any of them the truth until now, but I was scared of what would happen if they knew I was alive, not if they would take me back with open arms, but rather what would happen if they let my name slip when we were fighting Love Destroyers. I only let few people know who I was: the Outsiders, of course, knew for obvious reasons (though why Nuka didn't tell anyone still baffles me), and I told Sian this three years ago because I knew that she would keep my secret."

He turned to Sian and they shared a loving smile. Turning back to Zira, his expression turned serious again, as he continued, "But I reveal myself now because I have to take my father's place. I have to make things right, and by that I mean I have to take my father's throne."

There was an outbreak of confused muttering at theses words, and fortunately Sian was the one who answered their questions, for she said loudly, "For those of you who do not understand, allow me to explain. You see, we have all been told for centuries that there are no wizarding royal families, but this is not true. There is only one royal family in our world, and that family just happens to be the Pride-Landers."

More muttering occurred at these words, but Professor Darbus put a stop to it by saying, "It's true. Crighton told those of us who were close to the Pride-Landers and asked us to keep it secret until it was out in the open."

"If that's true, then how come Sian knows this?" asked Sarah Rimmer.

"My mother told me," Sian answered simply.

"But how come Dizra knows it?" I asked loudly, removing the Cloak at last.

At my reveal, those in front of me stepped aside so that I could move into the middle of the circle, where Sian and Kopa were beaming at me.

"Hello, sister," he said warmly; I nodded at him and smiled, not knowing what to say to him, then turned my attention to Sian.

"She does know, doesn't she?" I asked uncertainly.

Sian nodded. "Yes, Kiara, she does, and in order for you to understand how, I'm afraid I must explain what my mother told me happened to your father as a boy.

"You see, Kiara, when your father was four years old, he got blamed for killing his father, Mufasa, when in fact it was his uncle Taka (Mufasa's brother) who did it, but he liked to be called Scar because of this scar that he had over his left eye.

"Anyway, Scar sent your father into exile, and he was on the brink of death when my mother found him, took him with her to England and cared for him, raising him as her own son, and when he was old enough he went back to the Pride Lands, but only after Rafiki, a friend of your family, bopped him on the head and your grandfather's spirit talked to him, making him go back and challenge Scar.

"And so, your father went back, challenged him, and won. As Scar was dying, Dizra approached him. She had gone back to Africa after finishing at Borgin and Burkes, gaining followers as she went, and met up with Scar in the Pride Lands after learning about a royal family there. How I don't know, so don't ask me, but we know that she has ways of getting things out of people. Anyway, after talking with Scar for some time, Dizra couldn't think of anywhere else better to have even more power and gain more followers than by "ruling" by Scar's side, which she did for several years until your father went back and challenged him.

"Anyway, as Scar lay dying, Dizra found him and he told her to disarm him, take his wand and kill him, asking her to finish the job for him once he had died, which she did.

"But Dizra knew that she could not stay in the Pride Lands after that, knowing that Simba knew who she was and why she was there. So she went back to Britain, leaving spies behind to keep an eye on things for her and to tell her if anything interesting happened.

"And one day, years later, she was told of the news that his son, Kopa, was playing on his own out in the open. So she went to the are of land in which he was playing in, crept up on him and tortured him. Simba and Nala came running not long after this, but by the time they got there Kopa had been dragged off by two of her followers. They saw his blood at Dizra's feet and knew that she had tried to kill him. Dizra asked them to join her, but they disagreed, and that's when Simba made the mistake of touching Nala's stomach, which made Dizra realise that Nala was pregnant with her second child. Unfortunately for her, when she arrived back in England, she had forgotten where they were, for the Fidelius Charm my mother had placed made her forget where they lived, until the Absters informed her, making it easier for Dizra to go and find you, Kiara …"

Everyone was held rapt with attention by Sian's words, and no one made a sound as she spoke. I could not believe what I had heard; no wonder she had such a strange fascination with my family, and as I turned to face Zira, who wore an evil, satisfied smirk, I felt nothing but hurt, shock and anger at what she had done.

"So that's why you did this?" I asked her. "You went after my family to obtain power? How could you?"

"Oh don't sound so surprised, _Princess_ ," Zira sneered. "Of course I did those things. Your family had power, I wanted it, and the power of a royal family was just too great for me to ignore."

At that, Zira stepped into the middle of the circle as Sian and Kopa stepped out of it, and it became tighter as Zira and I looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other, and the tension running through the Hall returned thicker than ever.

"I don't want anyone else to help," I said loudly, and in the total silence my voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Zira hissed.

"Pride-Lander doesn't mean that," she said, her red eyes wide. "That isn't how she works, is it? Who are you going to be using as a shield today, Pride-Lander?"

"Nobody," I said simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good …"

"One of us?" jeered Zira, and her whole body was taught and her red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the girl who has survived by accident, and because Crighton was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my father put a strong, magical protection inside me the day I was born that saved me from you?" I asked. We were still moving sideways, both of us, in that perfect circle, maintaining the same distance from each other, and for me no face existed but Zira's. Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again?"

 _"Accidents!"_ screamed Zira, but still she did not strike, and the watching crowd was frozen as if petrified, and of the hundreds in the Hall, nobody seemed to breathe but we two. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and snivelled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," I said as we circled, and stared into each other's eyes, amber into red. "You won't be able to kill any of them, ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you hurting these people - "

"But you did not!"

" - I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my father would have if he had stood in front of me to protect me from you. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Maliay, do you?"

 _"You dare - "_

"Yes, I dare," I said, "I know things you don't, Dizra Maliay. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

Zira did not speak, but prowled in a circle, and I knew that I kept her temporarily mesmerised and at bay, held back by the faintest possibility that I might indeed know a final secret …

"Is it love again?" said Zira, her snake's face jeering. "Crighton's favourite solution, _love_ , which she claimed conquered death, though love did not stop her falling from the Tower and breaking like an old waxwork? _Love_ , which did not prevent me stamping out your Sackbrain father and Mudblood mother like cockroaches, Pride-Lander - and nobody seems to love you enough to run forwards this time, and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

"Just one thing," I said, and we still circled each other, wrapped in each other, held apart by nothing but the last secret.

"If it is not love that will save you this time," said Zira, "you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine?"

"I believe both," I said, and I saw shock flit across the snake-like face, though it was instantly dispelled; Zira began to laugh, and the sound was more frightening than her screams; humourless and insane, it echoed around the silent Hall.

"You think _you_ know more magic than I do?" she said. "Than _I_ , than Lady Zira, who has performed magic that Crighton herself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, she dreamed of it," I said, "but she knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean she was weak!" screamed Zira. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been hers, what will be mine!"

"No, she was cleverer than you," I said, "a better witch, a better woman."

"I brought about the death of Susan Crighton!"

"You thought you did," I said, "but you were wrong."

For the first time since I had entered the circle, the watching crowd stirred as the hundreds of people around the walls drew breath as one.

 _"Crighton is dead!"_ Zira hurtled the words at me as though the would cause me unendurable pain. "Her body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle. I have seen it, Pride-Lander, and she will not return!"

"Yes, Crighton's dead," I said calmly, "but you didn't have her killed. She chose her own manner of dying, chose it months before she died, arranged the whole thing with the woman you thought was your servant."

"What childish dream is this?" said Zira, but still, she did not strike, and her red eyes did not waver from mine.

"Tiana Triphorm wasn't yours," I said. "Triphorm was Crighton's, Crighton's from the moment you started hunting down my father. And you never realised it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Triphorm cast a Patronus, did you, Maliay?"

Zira did not answer. We continued to circle each other like wolves about to tear each other apart.

"Triphorm's Patronus was a lion," I said, "the same as my father's, because she loved him for nearly all her life, from the time when they were children. You should have realised," I said, as I saw Zira's nostrils flare," she asked you to spare his life, didn't she?"

"She desired him, that was all," sneered Zira, "but when he and Nala were in Azkaban, she agreed that there were other men, and of purer blood, worthier of her - "

"Of course she told you that," I said, "but she was Crighton's spy from the moment you threatened him, and she's been working against you ever since! Crighton was already dying when Triphorm finished her!"

"It matters not!" shrieked Zira, who had followed every word with rapt attention, but now let out a cackle of mad laughter. "It matters not whether Triphorm was mine or Crighton's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them like I crushed your father, Triphorm's supposed _love_! Oh, but it all makes sense, Pride-Lander, and in ways that you do not understand!

"Crighton was trying to keep the Stick of Fear from me! She intended that Triphorm should be the true mistress of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little girl - I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Tiana Triphorm three hours ago, and the Stick of Fear, the Elder Wand, the Deathtwig, is truly mine! Crighton's last plan went wrong, Kiara Pride-Lander!"

"Yeah, it did," I said. "You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done … think, and try for some remorse, Maliay …"

"What is this?"

Of all the things I had said to her, beyond any revelation or taunt, nothing had shocked Zira like this. I saw her pupils contract to thin slits, saw the skin around her eyes whiten.

"It's your one last chance," I said, "it's all you've got left … I've seen what you'll be otherwise … be a woman … try … try for some remorse …"

"You dare - ?" Zira said again.

"Yes, I dare," I said, "because Crighton's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Maliay."

Zira's hand was trembling on the Stick of Fear and I gripped Dani's wand very tightly. The moment, I knew, was seconds away.

"That wand still isn't working properly for you, because you murdered the wrong person. Tiana Triphorm was never the true mistress of the Stick of Fear. She never defeated Crighton."

"She killed - "

"Aren't you listening? _Triphorm never beat Crighton!_ Crighton's death was planned between them! Crighton intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true mistress! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with her, because it had never been won from her!"

"But then, Pride-Lander, Crighton as good as gave me the wand!" Zira's voice shock with malicious pleasure. "I stole the wand from its last mistress' tomb! I removed it against its last mistress' wishes! Its power is mine!"

"You still don't get it, Maliay, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Wandwick? _The wand chooses the wizard_ … the Stick of Fear recognised a new mistress before Crighton died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new mistress removed the wand from Crighton against her will, never realising exactly what she had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given her its allegiance …"

Zira's chest rose and fell rapidly, and I could feel the curse coming, feel it building inside the wand pointed at my face.

"The true mistress of the Stick of Fear was Danielle Malty."

Blank shock showed in Zira's face for a moment, but then it was gone.

"But what does it matter?" she said softly. "Even if you are right, Pride-Lander, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: we duel on skill alone … and after I have killed you, I can attend to Danielle Malty …"

"But you're too later," I said. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Dani weeks ago. I took this wand from her."

I twitched the hawthorn wand, and I felt the eyes of everyone in the Hall upon it.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" I whispered. "Does the wand in your hand know its last mistress was Disarmed? Because if it does … I am the true mistress of the Stick of Fear."

A red-gold glow burst suddenly across the enchanted sky above us, as an edge of dazzling sun appeared over the sill of the nearest window. The light hit both of our faces at the same time, so that Zira's was suddenly a flaming blur. I heard the high voice shriek as I, too, yelled my best hope to the heavens, pointing Dani's wand:

 _"Avada Kedavra!"_

 _"Expelliarmus!"_

The bang was like a cannon-blast and the golden flames that erupted between us, at the dead centre of the circle we had been treading, marked the point where the spells had collided. I saw Zira's green jet meet my own spell, and I saw the Stick of Fear fly high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling like the head of Namzo, spinning through the air towards the mistress it would not kill, who had come to take full possession of it at last. And I, with the unerring skill of the Seeker, caught the wand in my free hand as Zira fell backwards, arms splayed, the slit pupils of the scarlet eyes rolling upwards. Dizra Maliay hit the floor with a mundane finality, her body feeble and shrunken, the white hand empty, the snake-like face vacant and unknowing. Zira was dead, killed by her own rebounding curse, and I stood with two wands in my hand, staring down at my enemy's shell.

One shivering second of silence, the shock of the moment suspended: and then the tumult broke around me as the screams and cheers and the roars of the watchers rent the air. The fierce new sun dazzled the windows as they thundered towards me, and the first to reach me were Chris, Sian, Kopa and Chrissie, and it was their arms that were wrapped around me. Then Kestrel, Nikita and Lincoln were there, and then all the Dawsons and Mina, and Kara and Darbus and Winds and Spud, and I could not hear a word that anyone was shouting, nor tell whose hands were seizing me, pulling me, trying to hug some part of me, hundreds of them pressing in, all of them determined to touch the Girl Who Lived, the reason it was over at last -

The sun rose steadily over Dragon Mort and the Great Hall blazed with life and light. I was an indispensable part of the mingled outpourings of jubilation and mourning, of grief and celebration. They wanted me there with them their leader and symbol, their saviour and their guide, and that I had not slept, that I craved the company of only a few of them, seemed to occur to no one. I must speak to the bereaved, clasp their hands, witness their tears, receive their thanks - as did Sian, who was surrounded by many admirers and well-wishers, with some even wanting to hear stories of her adventures. I even had to hear the news creeping in from every quarter, as the morning drew on, that the Imperiused up and down the country had come back to themselves, that Love Destroyers were fleeing or else being captured, that the innocent of Azkaban were being released at that very moment, and that Kara Shackles had been named temporary Minister for Magic …

They moved Zira's body and laid it in a chamber off the Hall, away from the bodies of Grandmother Sarabi, Tanya, Todd, Meers, Colleen McCreevy, Keziah, Ron and fifty others who had died fighting her. Darbus had replaced the house tables, but nobody was sitting according to house any more: all were jumbled together, pupils and students, ghosts and parents, centaurs, house-elves and Elyon and her mountain army, and Fauna lay recovering in a corner, and Harlow peered in through a smashed window, and people were throwing food into her laughing mouth. After a while, exhausted and drained, I found myself sitting on a bench beside Lincoln.

"I'd want some peace and quiet, if it were me," he said.

"I'd love some," I replied.

"I'll distract them all," he said. "Use your Cloak."

And before I could say a word he had cried, "Oooh, look, a Blibbering Humdinger!" and pointed out of the window. Everyone who heard looked around, and I slid the Cloak up over myself, and got to my feet.

Now I could move through the Hall without interference. I spotted Kopa two tables away: he was sitting with most of the Dawsons, talking with them, as Mr Dawson studied him curiously: there would be time for us to get to know each other, days in which we could talk. I saw Nikita, the sword of Lion-Heart lying beside her plate as she ate, surrounded by knot of fervent admirers. Along the aisle between the tables I walked, and I spotted the three Maltys, huddled together as though unsure whether or not they were supposed to be there, but nobody was paying them any attention. Everywhere I looked I saw families reunited, and finally, I saw the three whose company I craved the most.

"It's me," I muttered, crouching down between Chris and Sian. "Will you come with me?"

They stood up at once, and together Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I left the Great Hall. Great chunks were missing from the marble staircase, part of the balustrade gone, and the rubble and bloodstains occurred every few steps as we climbed. Somewhere in the distance we could hear Weeves zooming through the corridors singing a victory song of her own composition:

 _"We did it, we bashed them, wee Pridey's the One,_

 _And Ziry's gone misty, so now let's have fun!"_

"Really gives a feeling for the scope and tragedy of the thing, doesn't it?" said Chris, pushing open a door to let Sian, Chrissie and I through.

Happiness would come, that I knew, but at the moment it was muffled by exhaustion, and the pain of losing Grandmother Sarabi, my parents, Tanya and Meers and Todd pierced me like a physical wound every few steps. Most of all I felt the most stupendous relief, and a longing to sleep. But first I owed an explanation to Chris, Sian and Chrissie, who had stuck with me for so long, and who deserved the truth. Painstakingly, I recounted what I had seen in the Pensieve and what had happened in the Forest, and they had not even begun to express all their shock and amazement when at last we arrived at the place to which we had been walking, though none of us had mentioned our destination.

Since I had last seen it, the elevator taking people up to the Headmistress' study had been blasted aside' it was knocked over, wish shards of broken glass littering the floor, and every so often a spark or two would emit from it, and I wondered whether it would ever work again.

Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I looked at each other for a moment, then stepped carefully around it and proceeded up the long staircase to the Headmistress' office. At last, the four of us panting, clutching stitches in our sides and chests, reached the top, and I pushed open the door.

I had one, brief glimpse of the stone Pensieve on the desk where I had left it, and then an ear-splitting noise made me cry out, thinking of curses and returning Love Destroyers and the rebirth of Zira -

But it was applause. All around the walls, the headmasters and headmistresses of Dragon Mort were giving me a standing ovation; they waved their hats and in some cases their wigs, they reached through their frames to grip each other's hands; they danced up and down on the chairs in which they had been painted; Deruent Dobster was beaming, Amanda Dipper sobbed unashamedly; and Philomena Naenia called, in her high, reedy voice, "And let it be noted that Snake-Eyes house played its part! Let our contribution not be forgotten!"

But I had eyes only for the woman who stood in the largest portrait directly behind the Headmistres' chair. Tears were sliding down her cheeks, and the pride and the gratitude emanating from her filled me with the same balm and the phoenix song.

At last, I held up my hands, and the portraits fell respectfully silent, beaming and mopping their eyes and waiting eagerly for me to speak. I directed my words at Crighton, however, and I chose them with enormous care. Exhausted and bleary-eyed though I was, I must make one last effort, seeking one last piece of advice.

"The thing that was hidden in the Snitch," I began, "I dropped it in the Forest. I don't know exactly where, but I'm not going to go looking for it again. Do you agree?"

"My dear girl, I do," said Crighton, while her fellow portraits looked confused and curious. "A wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected of you. Does anyone else know where it fell?"

"No one," I said, and Crighton nodded her satisfaction.

"I'm going to keep Iman's present, though," I said, and Crighton beamed.

"But of course, Kiara, it is yours forever until you pass it on!"

"And then there's this."

I held up the Stick of Fear, and Chris, Sian and Chrissie looked at it with a reverence that, even in my befuddled and sleep-deprived state, I did not like to see.

"I don't want it," I said.

"What?" said Chrissie loudly. "Are you mental?"

"I know it's pewful," I said wearily. "But I was happier with mine. So …"

I rummaged in the pouch hanging around my neck, and pulled out the two halves of holly still, just, connected by the finest thread of phoenix feather. Sian had said that they could not be repaired, that the damage was too severe. All I knew was that if this did not work, nothing would.

I laid the broken wand upon the Headmistress' desk, touched it with the very tip of the Stick of Fear and said, _"Reparo."_

As my wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end. I knew that I had succeeded. I picked up the holly and phoenix wand, and I felt a sudden warmth in my fingers, as though the wand and my hand were rejoicing at our reunion.

"I'm putting the Stick of Fear," I told Crighton, who was watching me with enormous affection and admiration, "back where it came from. It can stay there. If I die a natural death like Imani, its power will be broken, won't it? The previous mistress will never have been defeated. That'll be the end of it."

Crighton nodded. We smiled at each other.

"Are you sure?" said Chrissie. There was the faintest trace of longing in her voice as she looked at the Stick of Fear.

"I think Kiara's right," said Sian quietly, who looked relieved at my choice. I then looked at Chris, who nodded his approval.

"That wand's more trouble than it's worth," I said. "And quite honestly," I turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for me in Lion-Heart Tower, and wondering whether Kleaner might bring me a sandwich there, "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."

 **AN 2: So, this will be my last update for a while. I am still writing the third and final part of the seventh book, and I don't know when it will be finished, seeing as I am working now and I have very little time to write, but I want to get it all written up before I publish it. I don't know when it will be done, but I'm thinking it will be towards the end of this year, beginning of next year. I know that is a long time, but please be patient with me and keep a look out. So, I hope you've all enjoyed the story so far, and stick around because more will eventually come, I promise.**


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